words by Russ Daum images by Abbie Foxton


Will the revolving, transformative patterns of life

reassure us the mystery rhythms of flowers still exist?

If one finds herself within a flow

of white, pink and purple circles,

intoxicating aromas all around,

will she, instead, distrust what she finds?

Walk away from what is pleasant?

Break the line?

Choose to resist and be broken?

Bees remind us to hover.

To buzz among stained glass hours

and relish existence.

Land in proper spaces.

Find what is needed and transition to better.


I wonder…

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Can you not hear the natural colors of chimes ring in the air?

Can you not feel vibrations

of layered loops of musical blossom’s flow?

Or are you deaf and minus the sense of touch?

These white, pink and purple accordions

will soon lie spent upon the earth,

detached in 3/4 time.

A hidden spell broken with a rhyme.

An enchanted waltz today.

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