hands in the earth

there's a growing feeling

that i may not be

the first human

to feel sad

after rain

water wriggles its way

creating and following 

a path

how can sadness 

be old and new?

choose one or the other

for fuck's sake

when the land 

takes me back

how will it know

my name?

hands will remember 

and perhaps

we'll hold 

each other with love