Underneath It All

A handful of earth, rough against skin,

as the wind whips around, I bury within.

Fingers pressed down to where sorrow meets soil,

i dig for my losses, their weight turns to toil.

This patch holds my heart, like seeds planted deep,

with dreams turned to memories I struggle to keep.

The rain seeps through cracks, it settles and swells,

a fistful of dirt holds the stories it tells.