Quite Literal

Quite Literal

I lost myself in a pile of dirt.

Yes dirt.

Real dirt.

This is not a metaphorical statement.

Someday when I'm long gone

they'll be discussing my poetry in a college seminar somewhere

and some snooty teacher will say

What do you think she meant by dirt?

What does it symbolize?

And I'm saving you a lot of time here by giving you the answer.

I meant dirt.

Brown, crumbly, wet, mushy, wormy, dirt.

And I lost myself because there were zinnias coming up

where I hadn't planted them

having made some sort of small journey

from where I put the seeds to

where they wanted to grow.

And now, suddenly, quite unexpectedly,

I have found them while weeding

and mourning the fact that they never came up.

And I'm trying to untangle them from the

regular riffraff that always seems

intent on growing here.

And I lost track of time and space

while allowing myself only this

to do right now

Only this to think about.

Because I love zinnias,

their bright faces make me feel

hopeful and happy.

And rescuing them

will be the highlight of my day.

I crave simplicity

and words that mean what they say.

So you tell that professor

that I meant dirt.

Just dirt, and nothing else.

And maybe you can get an easy A.