This Love Thing

This love thing;
It’s a tussle thing,
A hussle thing.

From the rustle of those silk skirts,
Fall the diamonds destined for flirts-

But what of those who mined them?

Dirt poor and sweating, far from home
Never quite sure where they belong;
Sifting through so much grit
In search of fragments of sky
Here on earth:

It’s someone hidden putting in
The Work.
Pick-axing the crack
That will flood the
Darkness with
Light.

The salt of that sweat
Is the condiment
I will
Sprinkle on
Our
Loving.

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