Mow
banished under sunshine
building a cave out of fossilized plants--
sipping on the blood of forbidden fruits
smoking palm fronds in unauthorized vessels--
it burns, everything burns
seared lungs and watering eyes glowing--
faster times call for slow solutions
time alone edging at a glacial pace--
still we tumble and fall
still we try and etch out an existence among
the currents--
the rocks and the frozen trees
and the cold, cold liquid mirrors--
Ghost
drifting across wintered grasslands
out of silence, out of time--
so cold even the birds are frozen
locked in their dives
until spring thaw-- when they will drop
one by one
into the soggy marsh, their memories of worms
long since forgotten.
While pursuing a degree in Economics at the University of Washington Barry Anderson ventured into creative writing and had the awesome luck to study under Heather McHugh and Coleen McElroy. He has been published in Plains Poetry and Poetry NW.
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