The Big Stew

Mud on my shoes
In my blood
Smell the dirt
Forgotten memories
The warmth
Of my mother’s placenta

Rivers surge
Make smooth the hardest of rock
Constant rhythmic pounding
Pushed by a forceful heart
Driven to the sea
The big stew

How foolish
To wake up
Thinking
For one nano-second
This is a place to visit
When…

I am the mud
I am the river, the rock
A speck
In the big stew

“Hiking Notes”



3 thoughts on “The Big Stew

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