Tag: nature
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Hidden
A pair of hidden coots in the sedge line driven out by raucous fighter jets. Bubbles alive with memory trail upon the lake top.
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Winter
Winter What a weird way to experience this. . . Something forgotten : everyone has a right to life. no matter the purpose or value I I stood outside on that cool nightwatching the clouds caught in streams of wind pass me by. seams stretchedby tufted fingers and downy swirlslayering, stackingthe only distinctionsbeing darker…
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Tonight
Tonight the Aspen isclacking in the breeze. It’s very similar to the nails of a raccoonon the branch, shuffling leaves, climbing limbs. I hear it because I listen. Orion’s Belt is robust in the Northern sky. Has the archer beenfattening up for the winter? These dandelion leaves are translucentin the moonlight—like my mindand the river…
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If You Hear My Name
If you hear my name after an evening autumn rain, it’s because i am cedarwood incense and frog sounds.
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Frolic Gentle Observer
A walk through the neighborhood is actually more like frolicking through the neighborhood i stop to watch bees diligent and effortless in their workdozens of them appear from the orange poppiesthen reemerge elsewhere— there’s no telling how manya car door slams and i think how silly or simple i look and i get embarrassed for…
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Hands All Over
What border edge is far enough? What wall plenty high? Domesticate. Eradicate. The human race. Highways snake like veins, or a river, or a blade. We carry always with us the guilt of fear. Investment. Property. Economy. Paving the world. . . we’ve got our hands stretched over a dying fire. The state of Washington…
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Modern Poetry
The modern Poet towers over me, standing on piles of words, handheld degrees, like a decree, held tightly against the chest. Why is it that modern poetry makes me feel so small every time I venture to read it? Outside the window, moment after moment, the night sky flashes in a brilliance of lightshow. Bursting…
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Robins
When robins hunt it’s only a guessing game, an approximation, or so it seems. They scatter about and peck and move. Though there does seem to be some guiding principle. Each one is a sentinel unto himself, and a sentinel for the group. When you watch the robins hunt you always find there to be…
Daniel J Flosi is Consumed 