Senses by Susan Schmidlin

April 20, 2015

The earth between my fingers
Dark loam that crumbles at the touch
Warmed by the spring sun
Just moist enough to dampen my knees.

Visitors in the form of potato bugs,
Worms, bees, and slugs
Come and go as I toil
Leaving mere bits of memories in the stillness.

I notice something in the breeze
That distracts me from my work
Makes me pause and I breathe in
As the lilacs begin to sing.

Inspired by the Prompt: Senses.

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