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Mr. Dirt
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By Louis Gander
Other Poems by Louis Gander


Mr. Dirt

At times abused

but always used -

so does he disapprove?

I should have known

he's left alone.

Himself, he cannot move.

 

He cannot walk.

He cannot talk.

It seems he is entrapped.

No working ear,

he cannot hear.

Could he be handicapped?

 

One might deduce

he's of no use

and futile is his time.

And I can tell

he cannot smell.

So poor, he has no dime.

 

Is he distressed?

Is he depressed?

His life seems very grim.

His name is 'Dirt'.

Should he not hurt

when we're ignoring him?

 

We pull his weeds

and plant some seeds -

then use the garden hose.

And with a flood

he turns to mud

as everybody knows.

 

When rain has poured,

we thank the Lord,

that food has filled our room -

then thank the sun

for what its done

when flowers are full bloom.

 

But how we hide

the dirt outside -

though we don't think we're mean.

Who understands

when washing hands

that we judge Dirt unclean?

 

We think we know

but wrath will show

when we are judged by God.

Who thanks that soil

for all its toil

when manicured our sod?

 

No one will thank

the Dirt's low rank.

We entertain with fun!

But Dirt, who cares

with your affairs

and work that you have done?

 

Can we not sit

and think a bit

of someone we have hurt?

Don't build a wall.

Please thank them all -

including Mister Dirt.

 

Apologize.

It's always wise

for we've all wronged someone.

Let's live in peace.

Let judgment cease

for God's work isn't done.

 

©2017 louis gander


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Submitted: Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Last Updated: Tuesday, April 18, 2017

About the Poet
Born in Richland Center, Wisconsin in 1954. It's the poem's message that matters- not the poet.


Other Poems by Louis Gander

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