edaphology by ailish woollett

You are deep
 
          cradled in the palm of thousands
           
and their collective voices
                                 hand you over, and over
 
into and through spaces
                                    and matter.
 
You are at once
                       moss, bark, leaves, petals, stems,
                       mole fur, moth wings, hair, skin, twigs,
                       animal flesh and blood and bone
                       and the porous body of insects
                       (all of them dead)
                       mostly bacteria and microbes,
                       all of it slimy and moulded over, wet and breathing, 
                       grinding down into the same black mulch that is
                       the corpse of all the forest.
 
                       45% mineral, 5% organic matter
                       and 50%          voids.

In corridors and unoccupied rooms

            there is always a draft             (somewhere the window is open).
 
                         The coat is sewn with empty pockets.
 
                          Now we burrow
                          through the shedding of the earth
                          and regurgitate.
                          The feed is made of itself.
                          Crumble. Decay. Burst.
                          And there is the mealy earthworm,
                          pushing blind face forward
                          towards the vibration of the rain.

✱✱✱

Ailish Woollett is a young writer from Hebden Bridge, UK. She graduated with a BA in English Literature and Creative Writing from Lancaster University. Other poems from this series on tree biology have been featured in Peacock Journal and The Harpoon Review. She can be contacted at [email protected].
You can read more of her work at:
http://peacockjournal.com/ailish-woollett-three-poems/
http://www.harpoonreview.com/ailish-woollett