The wind blows a laden sigh <br />yet comfortably, unmovingly, here sit I <br />where some would become tense <br />I am lax, billowing like ribbons on a fence <br /> <br />Misty rain sprinkles her blessings <br />strangers race about, with their duckings and hidings <br />but I am the ground, happily being soaked <br />earth's pitcher - mouth open, uncloaked <br /> <br />An overly exuberant sun radiates above <br />it is what some brown folk, wish to stay out of <br />I too am brown, and like a cake - I taste better when baked <br />human, of the earth and on the earth our identity let us not forsake<br /><br />Nika McGuin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/earthling/
