Debora Ewing

Faults Shifted
ink on paper
12 x 10 in.

Dear Earth,

I know we belong to you, just like the forest and the foxes and the paper-mills and all the single shoes on the side of the road. I know that we each move at our own pace, and you are older than all of us who scratch graffiti on your skin. Earth-mother, I hear you, and I’m trying to show your message of something other than words. I’m trying to show those who move too fast how you hold our childish hands ever day, with trees and streetlights for gloves. Dear mother, I will keep scratching words until I myself are your skin. And you will keep on moving, even then.

© Debora Ewing