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


