Soil

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Sometimes cold, wet, and mushy
Sometimes warm and dry
like sand.
And when I put my hands in
it I'm like a tree when the sun beams on me,
And when raindrops touch my leaves.

When birds land on me, I feel like a mother nurturing her young.

That's how I feel when I touch soil.

Poems from me to everyone Donde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora