Earth
Earth Derek Walcott Read by M. Connor Let the day grow on you upward through your feet, the vegetal knuckles, to your knees of stone, until by evening you are a black tree; feel, with evening, the swift thicken your hair, the new moon rising out of your forehead, and the moonlit veins of silver running from your armpits like rivulets under white leaves. Sleep, as ants cross over your eyelids. You have never possessed anything as deeply as this. This is all you have owned from the first outcry through forever; you can never be dispossessed.
Derek Walcott Read by M. Connor
Let the day grow on you upward through your feet, the vegetal knuckles,
to your knees of stone, until by evening you are a black tree; feel, with evening, the swift thicken your hair, the new moon rising out of your forehead, and the moonlit veins of silver running from your armpits like rivulets under white leaves. Sleep, as ants cross over your eyelids. You have never possessed anything as deeply as this. This is all you have owned from the first outcry through forever; you can never be dispossessed.