These lines came from dirt. More specifically, from a dirty man's time spent working the soil of a North Carolina orchard.Some clumps of dirt are inconceivably full of life. Others are lighter. Their smells range from harsh to fragrant to bland. In its own way, each is natural. Each clod of good earth has a meaningful role to play. Whether such meanings can be grasped, appreciated, or assigned a purpose... well, that's the eternal question, isn't it?Whether grasped or not, each holds a beauty within. Each holds a poetry.This is the second book of the DeepRichDirt Poetry Series. Enjoy.