(for Earth Day)

The forest floor,
a patchwork of cast-off leaves,
teams with busy life,
decomposing death —
breaking apart the pieces
which once fit together in being.

Detritus,
no one gazes at you in awe and wonder,
no one sings your stunning praise.
And yet the mighty oak,
the massive fig,
and the complex world within their structures,
owe their lives to your labour.

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Day Twenty-Two:  In honour of Earth Day, write a georgic.

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