i am fallow, ungrounded.
seeds float past me effortlessly
knowing that the soil here
is acidic, bleached to uselessness.
i am pale and crumbling,
individual chunks of mud
and flesh falling off my bones.
at noon i am burned by the sun.
at night i am frozen by winds.
i am sedimentary,
a block of years slowly
breaking apart in the great slow spin
of cyclical nature.
the expanse of western sky
does not please my eyes;
the wet green crush of fields
does not pleasure my feet.
i am lost, ungrounded;
waiting for a map of stars
to align, and take me home.