Dirt

pounding footsteps bound over me
tracking mud on the back of our shoes
the traces of impurity society has defined
the sense of what we gain is to lose

again and again the stiff wind blows
fighting for mothers attention
but swift the water rolls and diffuses
the perilous thundering tension.

absence of fear is lost in the night
dirt and mud grinded in
to our brains and souls and shoes and hair
left on our bodies of sin