Don’t Let Me Go To Waste

Lay me down in the field where wildflowers grow

Beneath our friend, the sun, hung in the firmament

And clouds, bleached white sugar fluff drift by in the breeze.

Open your nostrils and breathe the air, earth’s perfume–

Smell the bouquet of grass and sweet petals, and soil

Untainted, unreachable by the big city

Where the smog strangles with thick and noxious hands.

Lay me down in the dirt–let me feed everything.

Published by Kindra M. Austin

Author of fiction, poetry, and very sweary social commentary. Editor, and co-founder of Indie Blu(e) Publishing. Co-founder of Blood Into Ink, and Heretics, Lovers, and Madmen.

7 thoughts on “Don’t Let Me Go To Waste

  1. When I read the poem then read the title again, I almost laughed. It seems like such an understated, wry thing to say when one is considering one’s mortality, doesn’t it. In short, I felt a tug of humour along with the melancholy here. Beautifully written, Kindra.

    Liked by 1 person

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