AND THEN I WEAR THE EARTH
by Britton Shepard
in the morning before it is light
i layer onto my legs these heavy dungarees
and onto my arms and trunk these old wool sweaters
that know my name
that i may have no separation
between the things i do
and my own body
i wear my dungarees
and then i wear the earth
into the fibers go
the mixing molecules of
pulver and pollen and petrichor
and from within
vapor and humor and pheromones
my body clad in callous and fleece
climbs in the hedgerow
kneels beside the rough skin of garry oak
inhales the perfume of
the living soil beneath the meadow