But If It Dies

The Ancient Modern

But If It Dies  /  Joshua Alan Sturgill

i stop digging

and stand in my grave
unfinished

now i am a tree i said

i am made of hands
to hold the light

bury your feet
next to mine i said

             drink 
from my grave

now we are a forest
unfinished

our heart hides
secret rivers

All poetry and supplementary material: copyright 2021 by Joshua Alan Sturgill. All rights reserved.