the phrase “sun fed children” caught me, and then I fell in love with the rest of this one. Enjoy.

Elan Mudrow

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The trees are strangers here.

Sun fed children, standing

Revealed. A stumbling dance

We take photos of the young

To remember nameless faces

To recognize familiarity

And apply colors to leaves

Branch, stem, and trunk

Sprayed out, brown and green,

with an occasional blemish, added

As the roots run shallow

Too close to the surface, which

Is our own likeness, re-presented

 

And the dirt is not real

It hides from us, refusing

To partake in our activities

Of blankets and gardens.

We cover it up in growth

That is in our likeness, and

Name it at birth, as life

Names it as unknown

A song of the buzzing high wires

Crescendos incessantly

Lulls the dirt to sleep

 

The wilderness is young

Encircled by highways

And wormy blue rivers

Who no longer need the ocean

We sink our fly lines into it

From boats that match the sky

To…

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