I Dig

I dig.

I dig and open up.

I dig and open up and scratch.

Fingers reach in and lift up clumps of Earth.

Pieces of Her flesh crumble in my hands.

Did I injure Her by digging?

Maybe I should have massaged instead.

Maybe we can do both

As humans.

Dig and massage

Scratch and soothe

Her.

I am learning as I go.

I am reconnecting as I think.

But this was all done in my mind’s eye,

No earth or garden to be had.

Another quiet night at home,

Surrounded by screens

Fantasizing about the Earth and her loving wounds.

Instead,

I run my finger along the potting soil of a houseplant

And sip my tea.