Elan Mudrow
Smidgens
Category: Poetry
Here is where my deepest heart lies. These writings emanate from the many times when my passion hits the bottom and other times where it seems to fly on wings. To solace myself, I go to the woods on deep forest trails, pray to waterfalls, look over valleys, and dip my hands in the waters of springs, hoping to soothe myself. Forgive me if I get angry; for at times I’m just plain mad at the world.
Wet Pine Needles
Running the brittle floor—upon leaves settled to soil. With mild hands wandering—through air and pressed sunlight. Becoming branches—breaching the film of moist sky. Clinging to winter’s sun—lucent thoughts, fictile. Moving with the wildness—of the warm, fragile body. Its abstractions of molds—ravines, dips, and death….
Mountain Lake
I sit with her Placing her in memory Giving thoughts strength, yet In her silence, she frightens me. I rely on others Camping upon her shore To soothe my worry. And although I haven’t Seen her rimmed with snow Echoing the clearest of nights,…
Ghost Story For The Wilderness Impaired
She’s a ghost. I know that. She brushes her fingers along my shoulders and I will look up to find her playing among the trees, pretending to be the wind. She’ll drop a pinecone or a small branch as a reminder. Then, off she…
Rain Jacket
You’ve had a few rain jackets. Some of them have fallen apart, others weren’t a good fit from the get-go, a couple of them ran off with someone else. Still, it’s hard to face the rain without one. You’ve done that too, plenty of…
The Ocean Welcomes Me Back
She knows me. Though, I haven’t seen All that she is….. All her anger and angst Frozen at times, treacherous. I know her From the safety of my footing. She can pull me, She pulls me, I am pulled Not by ebb, but by…
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