Holes

the brown specks of everything

lay quite neatly surrounding the

little abyss you've created

            for such a terrible mess

more and more float upwards out of nowhere

I watch as your work

            oblivious

sometimes the dirt lands softly

nestling in my hair

and fading to scenery  

which you clearly

don’t notice

you dig and dig

and occasionally stand to cast me

an easy smile

            and I remember

the way I’m supposed to feel

and then I see more

speckles of everything and

            absolutely nothing

            because there's nothing deeper to dig up

but you continue

the specks speckle the

ground I sit upon, thinking,

but the greenest grass still shares its vibrancy,

and the flowers, their joy

and the sun

            it warms my soul

you dig further

            I can’t understand why

            do you expect gold and buried treasure?

            the seed of a flower?

            anything special?

what thrives so far from the sun?

you've gone too far

            all the little brown specks      

            you neglect to appreciate

were there for you

and I can do nothing

            only watch

as you dig yourself deeper into

your own little abyss

oblivious with that easy smile,

blank mind, and settled heart.