Tag: Blog

Leaf Finder General

She rakes leaves as if she’s in a battle with fall With those pranksters of maple, oak, alder, and all Who best be off elsewhere, staying clear from her home Or sticking fast by autumn’s mist to the garden gnome Better not sneak under…

Soundness

He’s moving to a song he knows and it’s a song we’ve heard before but can’t place. As he moves, the sweat, sores, and scratches stay in place. What’s inside him is externalized. He doesn’t care about our inner secrets, our inner fears, our…

Rampant Dust

We’re rampant dust with sunlight between our fingers.   Check out more images here.    

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…

Ramona Falls’ Mist

Ramona’s whisper requites us to ourselves—our fires extinguished, our thirst sated. That voice, a pact between mountain and moisture, is a quiet call to us The stumbling pilgrims, forest wanderers, wishful sages who suffer from acute chatter. Its language—slow—near wordless, near nothing, paints upon…

Nestling

Fragile nest In the midst of Erratic blaze      

Carbon

We watch the night sky, safe under its lights, reading a language of the night. Our hands fumble, circle as if in orbit, landing inside each other’s magnetic field.  We whisper to one another in a planet’s dialect, built by a syntax of suns, stanzas…

Face In The Woods

The woods are watching. Pacific Crest Trail, Oregon, June 2018     See more photos here.

Urban Mimesis — Elan Mudrow Photography

via Urban Mimesis — Elan Mudrow Photography Fire had sustained, now it consumes in a slow gesture. Fingers—intact—same shape as they were before, can’t conduct. Invoking is a painted portrait, prepared each morning in the image of the moon. Flame like flowers still shoots…

Binary Stars – The Kid And I

The kid comes in, snaps a few photos of a living clutter, the retail store. “We don’t have anything like this.” The standard review, spoken by the parent of the kid who shares the photo on Instagram, Facebook, or some other app. The shop…

Weathered Waves Of Grain — Elan Mudrow Photography

Every ridge felt. Fort To Sea Trail. March 2018 via Weathered Waves Of Grain — Elan Mudrow Photography

Pulling Parts

“If it were not for our wrecks, the salvage yard would be empty.”      

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