Stalking the rare quiet
finding the uncommon
moored and mired
in silty, salty muck
plant carnivorous
and slight orchid
——(Drosera filiformis,
——-Arethusa bulbosa)
lie from sight’s line
root on unknown site
unaligned lying while
stalking the flora
in plodding hunt for
the drawn out silence
drowning out
cacophony of over-riddled ridiculed pontificated rumination
muzzled by way of
—sleek
——punctuated
———nature’s noise
orchestrated
——by pitching peeps
——creaking insect bark
——never ceasing wind
——rushing, crinkling surf
while i gingerly pace
carefully placed
tracks
en route to rarities
of plants fragile clinging on
and no more sullen thoughts
About the Creator
Chaia Levi
like if Nabokov had a brain injury
artist, writer, photographer
instagram, tiktok, tumblr: @chaialevi
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Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson5 days ago in Fiction
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