Inside

by Dan Albergotti
In the lake, the cottonmouth. In the sea, the shark.
In the soil, the growing seed. In the tree, the lark.

In the dark, the insects’ call. In the light, the trust.
In the child, the weight of years. In the steel, the rust.

In the dust, the memory. In the air, your soul.
In my head, the unsaid words. In the diamond, coal.

In the hole, your polished box. In the earth, the quake.
In my blood, your vessel ran. In these lines, its wake.