Replanted

He was airlifted to another place. The heaths, the dales, the high ridges, all began to slip away under throbbing wings. (When you are unearthed, roots still wriggle, flecks of native mud cling to your senses and come with you. A sediment makes its way inside wrinkles and pockets. Places you have slept on, waded across, had breezy sex over, tether your turf). He began to plant. He left lichen trails on the faux marble floors of shopping malls. he placed moss under plastic rocks. In time he discovered good clay in a new land. If asked: to what country he belonged? He would show the dirt under his fingernails.