Unfurling

Before the unfurling

The inward bloom

An artist’s fist

Compressed to the movement

Of skin and desire

Held to earth

By fragile stem

One day will

Follow the sun

Learn to lure the bee

Speak in soft flesh tones….

And landing upon transitory beauty

Knows

Only representations

Are permanent.

Form, structure, pigments.

A ghost’s body

Still holds the shape

Of hands outlined, flat

Upon the prehistoric cave

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Undertow

Self Portrait

A reader dips a hand

Into swift water

Waiting in initial silence

To be taken by the current

 

An author swims

Without life preserver

Arms….splashing

Yelling towards the shoreline

Close-In

Photo by this person

The leaf blowers start.

Smell of gas fills the air.

Mounds begin to form.

There’s stragglers.

Spots of yellow and orange

Upon lawns watered

To a suspended green

During the black and white

Months Of summer.

A few flattened in driveways

By the press of a cold front

Still moist.

Only in this moment

Dead streets are art.

 

A Subaru passes.

Kids, mom, phone

Rearrange the gallery

Share The Dirt

Photo by Elan

Once, flowers were placed in gun barrels

As a form of protest.

Today, a garden is needed

To keep the soil of the meadow

Soft enough for all feet to walk upon

Barefoot

 

We grow in common ground.

Share the dirt.

Same Is Said

Vegas Petals

Just when ya think

Hate’s reached full glow

It lets your ass know

Has plenty of room to grow    

 

Same is said of love.

 (At least,

That’s what I’ve heard.)

 

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Or even this link

elanmudrow@gmail.com