Hunting For The Spring

Hunting For The Spring short poem

Photo by zeevveez


Running from something better
to leave it unnamed
cold water muddy stream, convenience
food wrappers in a kind of marketing
survey, neons washed out
pink and peach among
moss wet rock and metal
bridge stanchion rising a splayed
hipbone from some impossible saurian
breath ripping out of raw windpipe,
hot lungs, skin lubricated
sweat and last night’s alcohol
redistilling filtered through dirty
cotton sweater,
finding a ford of old hubcaps,
stagger into mud floored marsh
branches, draw smears of smut
on cheek and brow, find
the perfect limb
wrist thick and supple, pull the hatchet
from frayed chino waistband,
cut it free crack it open
to the pistachio green marrow,
that lovely scent which never
translates into taste or sound directly
no birdsong no laughter
just dusk gathering in a crowd
pressing in slow and inexorable

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GlenDodge

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a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
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