The Earth is there to be used. We should never forget how She feels.

The Mine Lament
I only know its right when I have tears.
With laughter, fun and fear and shear
Exuberance;
Of marmalade and jam
I write with sore ribs:
Barbecued or stewed
Plums or prunes they spring
Succulent or desiccate
Watered only by the well
Of my mind.

Dig that well I say!
Pull the salt of my early days!
Taste the youthful tears
Of angst and puppy love.
Drill no more
If that is your need
But, if you thirst, continue:
Bring your rigger to be saved:
There are deeper depths and pressures here.

Send down the pipe.
It speaks to you of riches:
I reach through it to the air.
We meet sometimes and combust.
Our gasses twine and flame
But my depths still call us both.

You break my crust of age
Finally I breathe your youth.
I welcomed your approach
I never felt old:
But you were old and so young
When you came;
Looking for so much and seeing so little;
So much expert, so little sense.

I’m old now
Send met the friends of my youth.
The men who knew me
And I offered my womb to them.
Dig me if you dare! And they did.
And I gave in return.
Steam, Hydraulic are not the same
As the feel of men upon my veins.