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.
Baskett Slough
There’s so many speaking, not wanting to give up the slough. They’ve had it for the entire winter… to themselves Chickadees, common nighthawks, grebes, sneaky rails and coots. The marsh, still cold…wet…wants to capture my clumsy steps. Grasses hide the outer rim of…
Scattered Town
One can hear the electrical wires in the rain near the scattered towns. Your voice is still under those lines, in one town or another, poking around old man bars. You wanted to see where the forest ditched the highway, where the grid no…
Above Multnomah Falls
This warm winter makes the creek scream like spring. I dip my hand in, as far in as my long sleeves let me Smooth stones, slick, cold life, years in my hands. My fragile blood beats, knows the water by heart. It’s good…
The Ledge
Out on the ledge, the snow hushes the wild. This kind of quiet soothes while it scares Strange mixture of awareness. A lone northern harrier is the only singer. She strafes the powder with one beat of her wings Eyes on everything, including me….
Old Soul, New Building
These new buildings, I swear they got no soul. They need to grow into words, become particles on a page, rise, metabolize into earthen words, soil, dust conjunctions filled with creamy authenticity, reshaped, interpreted into life. They’re turkey stuffed with dust ball offices, lights…
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