Fecund Exposure

Last night's rain
on the Oak and Hickory leaves underfoot
becoming Earth once again
Tannin-soaked air reaches my nose
Like a sweet cigar, or a waft of perfume from a steaming cup of tea,
or the smell of rich woodland soil under shovel
in my hands, in my nose, in my heart.

One moment in time
a poignant mystery
to explore.

The depths are reached
in this slanted, decaying light.
The trees bare their bones.
Birds flit, exposed once again in their plenty
no longer their song giving them away, but their feather.

If we are of luck,
we too become exposed
in our journeys back home.
Where the deep, rich Earth will consume us
once more.

Lay it open
and beating.
For how can life grace us
if we aren't fertile ground.

Tomorrow's acorn sprouts
in the rot of yesterday's leaf.
Release the leaf.


  1. I love this! This morning I too smelled the wet leaves and likened it to tea.

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  3. Melissa!!!! You can post this in the poetry forum of East West. Michael will LOVE IT. This is so so beautiful. Mary Oliver has many children!

    1. Thanks Sidney. I haven't been on the forum in forever, might get over there... :)