gleening
it was a something way back when
and in some third world today
I take a line reached deep to my soul
mash it mould it apply structure and form to it
so that I can see it for myself
putting words to paper and pen to thoughts
something comes more richly deeply from first having pulled the tough
left behind stalks from the blackened soil of my ancestorial effort
before taking it chewing it to a palatable tenderness for the ears of those set before the plate at my table