In Communion With Soil (2008 - present)

Maps say Brazil--Tocantins, perhaps.
But that’s not how you’ll find it.
You’ll recognize Cristalândia by your experience,
by the marks you’ve made on it.

Walk slowly, though, because marks are small and elusive.

The marks we make are often only as permanent
as an elongated shadow and as private
as the discoveries made in this mutated form.

Marks are awkward at first.
Painful.

But all this is obvious to the people of a mining town
whose daily business is to commune with the soil.
The big machines exhume ancient mountains,
sift through their secrets
and stretch them out on the hillside to dry.

It’s a good business, when business is good--
when the big machines come.

For now, the grass grows and the grass burns,
wrapping the marks in green
and guarding their vestiges with sheets of ash.

The grass wraps your marks too.

Joe Reynolds Photographs
Joe Reynolds Photographs
Joe Reynolds Photographs
Joe Reynolds Photographs
Joe Reynolds Photographs
Joe Reynolds Photographs