© Tim Tiedemann, Unsplash

Upon the Earth a Pilgrim

Where am I native?
To this urban foundation, brick
washed white in violent sunlight?

Perhaps I come from Texan gardens
of red clay & moss & farmer’s markets.

Or northern meadows of bloodroot & buckbean,
frosted beneath November’s glacial praise.

I’ve spent miles seeding my roots, but
I see my blood in these walls, in paintings
of palms and cities pitched on bluffs.

I’ve traveled the earth, spun round
its axis, resided in quarries of weeds
and rotted wood.

Where I go I see beauty,
& I breathe the earth.

Abby Jewett 2019