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Roots
June 25, 2013
10:31 am
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The rising sun

climbs the mountain’s back

and stretches shining fingers

to a waxing desert floor.

Sego lilies bloom despite

barren harvest and burdened truth.

Ripped up by the root

and devoured beneath beauty,

the bulb stripped of stem

and petal bells fallen silent

in the hum of cricket wings.

A plaguing patriarch awaits.

Seagulls swoop and peck,

fill their bellies with chirping insects,

but they can’t pluck up prophets

and they can’t deliver suffrage

with wings to pioneer bonnets—

eyes shaded and lips parched,

limbs wilted and feet planted

like roots stuck in the soil of men.

 

a/n: This was my submission for the 24 hour writing contest at the Utah Arts Fest. The prompt... which is no longer online or I'd post it... was a photo of the Utah state flower with a sunrise in the background. I did not win or receive an honorable mention, but I am pleased with how the poem turned out.

Wine is bottled poetry. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson
June 30, 2013
1:37 pm
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Wow, this is a really strong piece. All the descriptions are beautiful, and I like how the tone of the poem kind of changes toward the end (maybe it is just me). I love the descriptions especially, and the first lines alone really drew me in. 

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tlhopkinson
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