The Shallow Well of a Pasture Somewhere

Soft
cool
earth
warms underfoot
and swirls between my toes.
I only want the grass
the wet
strands
that sometimes cut
the creases of my skin.

I will
dig
deep
and
deeper
until I am surrounded;
all sides rising above me
in dark security.
Roots entrap my ankles
and hold me
tightly to
Mother's breast.