Palms Stain Green

 

 

dried leaves garden history ferdinand olivier1

There is a roughness

A quiver, that tells things

The redness of spring cherries

Leaves, autumn raked.

Ears pick up the vibration

Voices attempt to emulate

But, it is the rumbling

Palms search for

The noise is subject to a tilt

A wobble, soft rocking

Oceans become glued in place

Only waves leap up

To embrace the shoreline, littered

With broken shells, agates

Bare feet and seaweed

Who move not by spin alone

Nighttime sand is searched

With the closest flashlight

We women are magnets

We men are magnetized

The land shrinks beneath

Feet insecure, toes curl

Docks built from dunes

Stretch out, onto the curve

The grating nails of wind

Ruffles summer grass

Is a sound never lost

During the length of dry dirt

No blade grows alone

Even if it wants to

Sprouts are wet when bitten

Palms stain green

A dampened grasp plants…

Rows, forming the finite

Tops of trees like spikes, sting

Glaciers melt inside the clasp

Flooding a string of rush hours

Our voices squirt out, parched

Between brittle clay fingers

And electric car windows

Canals are rerouted, rooted to

Fields of elongated greenness

Who chase the trapped sea

Lining the new desert in fur

They die before the kiss is felt

Sucked into concrete basements

Reserved for future invoices

Love can no longer get wet

There is a roughness

A humming, that tells things

The nakedness of new petals

The thump of ripened apples

Touch feels for the arc of the wave

The song is already memorized

But, it is the rhythm

Bones search for

dried leaves garden history julius schnorr1

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50 Responses to Palms Stain Green

  1. Purpleanais says:

    It’s when reading things such as *this* that I feel I should stop writing altogether because others do it so much better 🙂 Not that I will stop writing, it’s as necessary to me as breathing, but….very, very nice 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  2. At least the stain is from grass, not cow manure!
    Jeanette Hall

    Like

  3. Something about putting agates so close together with seashells and seaweed feels jarring to me, and it bothers me. Maybe because I grew up agate hunting during summer vacations on the shore of Lake Superior, and your poem does’t feel like my beach. On the other hand, I love, love the thumping of the apples! True to life, and I can smell them sun-ripened and juicy falling to the ground. I like the spring cherries too. I love the delicate sour ones which ripen earliest.
    Will have to return to it later and try to understand it better.

    Like

  4. Elsie says:

    Beautiful 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  5. You are correct. Nature must be allowed to ebb and flow as needed. There are reasons why Nature ebbs and flows and We are foolish to believe We can forcibly lock Nature in. Foolish of Us to lock Rivers into only one River Bed and forget that Fault Veins run under both sets of River Beds. Even more foolish for Us to steal Water from The Earth and expect Nature to Survive. Your words are Wise.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Beautiful and moving. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

  7. No blade grows alone, even if it wants to..I think of John Donne “no man is an island…” Love your writing as always..

    Like

  8. reocochran says:

    This poem is beautiful and captures so much in its words. I always like to have dirt under my nails and green grass stains on knees, this is what gardening means to me! Smiles, Robin

    Like

  9. I like the “The land shrinks beneath, Feet insecure, Toes curl…”
    it is very visually empathetic, you visibly see the land going away you feel it beneath your feet and yet your feet still remain only your toes are able to begin to remove themselves, you should go but the beauty of it is you just dont.

    Like

  10. artbyaidan56 says:

    Reblogged this on aidanphelanart and commented:
    Gorgeous wordplay

    Like

  11. Karen Shei says:

    Your words sound so effortless. Thank you, glad to have to found this.

    Like

  12. vivachange77 says:

    Your poem feels like a cosmic map of sensuous energy. Extraordinary.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. This could be a song, I like the words you chose, wakes the imagination.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. R.H. Dahl says:

    Beautiful. Visual. I love this and find I agree with all the amazing comments left by other’s here too! Thank you for your WORDS! =)

    Liked by 1 person

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  16. nikitapandya says:

    it is so bful… loved it!

    Like

  17. nikitapandya says:

    specially these lines-

    “Love can no longer get wet

    There is a roughness

    The song is already memorized

    But, it is the rhythm

    Bones search for”
    though others are equally amazing!

    Like

  18. neutraltechnician says:

    What inspired you to write this post?

    Like

  19. Bumba says:

    I liked the rhythm and roughness that tells things.

    Liked by 1 person

  20. sutlive2 says:

    Dear Elan Mudrow,
    I like the plant drawings.
    Regards,
    Sam Sutlive.

    Like

  21. Madhurima says:

    You write really well, as I’ve said before. I love the title *palms stain green*.
    The poem fills one up with an unexpected and sense of familiarity which I think is a very precious thing in this vast world.

    Like

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