Prompt Day 3

Oh this land of my growth

Of child and adulthood both,

Fertile fields and damp springs

Your dewy air to everything clings.

Smelling of equal parts manure and marijuana

You’re rich with flora and fauna,

The valley where the lake was drained

It’s residue leaving soil darkly stained.

How expert your fields

For the weather never yields

And yet you open up an angle obtuse

Spouting forth such lovely produce.

You grow and you grow

The rate becoming less slow

Others learning what I’ve always known

The truth engraved inside my bone.

This land so moist and green

This land so yearning and keen,

With vigor in the air

And mountains everywhere.

It will raise one strong

And so I belong

In this strangely sized municipality

With all of its vitality.

– Vagabond Prophet