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Digging to China

The day the sinkhole gave way

it was partly cloudy with 73% humidity

it formed on the asphalt

at the mouth of the alley

where the prickly cactus

was promising peek-a-boo yellow blooms

and who knew, right?

The bottom fell out in fathomless delight!

we jumped in anyway

and landed in China

It worked well

we always said we’d dig there

A free trip!

I thought it would end in a desert

not a bamboo forest

not clothed in red holiday fashion

for the New Year and hung bao

we tried writing your name in that elaborate maze of characters

distracted, you leaned more towards the idea of mooncakes and dragons

while I wondered how we would get back

After all, nobody ever heard of digging to America

or maybe they did

but here we were atop the Great Wall

our feet flying in the atmosphere of a new day

marveling at time, distance and assorted greenery

pondering where else

a tunnel could lead

deep through

the spinning earth

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rGhi3Kptc6M

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  1. Oh, my! I had not thought of digging to China in years. What a lovely poem as sink holes have become realities. Never have I seen one put to poetry. Well done.

  2. Love your adventurous spirit, jumping right into that sinkhole. Even though the whole event is fathomless, we look for reasons… temp, humidity, location, some relation to the cactus blooms. We tried to dig our way to China as kids and yet, we’re surprised when that’s where the sinkhole takes us. Your descriptions were lovely, and almost enough to distract me from the worry of how we would get back home. πŸ™‚

  3. ‘There’s a hole in my heart that goes all the way to China….’ came to mind. Great poem, Lana- love the magical realism and absurdity.

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