Elan Mudrow
Smidgens
Tag: Forest
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….
Summer Forest
Summer plays with you in the forest, running mad in a meadow, hide and seek with a creek, foot race with a river. There are times when you’ll lose the summer’s sun, under deciduous and evergreens. But you will turn a corner, run into…
Witches
Along the upper stream, in the summer mountains, the witches watch. Back in the city, they call them old growth. Each one has their own assortment of spells. Once you learn that fact, you realize why the forest looks as it does And if…
The Small River
Although I haven’t seen the small river yet… the one tucked back in the Coast Range, I know the trees will come up to its edge, some will lean too close, arching over the water. Ferns will dot its shores, trailing back to darker…
The Lover and the Fool
Running through the mud, laughing like a feral forest child with no concept of language. My body, the only means of communication, flying down Macleay creek trail, passing the Witch’s House. I swear I float above the trail. Then on Wildwood, even the sounds…
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