when mining ended in the pit,
a path was made encircling it,
and near the path, a fence was strung,
and soon all kinds of plant life hung…
…upon the wire, all around–
now, even wild hops are found;
there are berries, plums, and apples, too–
all hanging there for me and you!
–photos by me
O little yellow bird,
The things you must’ve heard
While flitting ’round
Our little town–
And how you spread the word!
–Photo by me
the bee is my brother
we’re one family
the wind is my sister
she calls out to me
the earth is my mother
i sprang from her womb
the sky is my father
he makes mother bloom
–photo by aaron
i’m droppin’ by here just to say
i hope that you have a nice day;
my tail’s a-swishin’
and my whiskers are twitchin’,
so something good’s comin’ your way.
–photo by son aaron
O little tree
Of the meadow,
You’re on your own
But don’t be blue,
For all the trees
Of the forest
See you alone–
And envy you.
–Photo by me
it’s either a spider’s web
hovering o’er the grass,
or a ghostly fingerprint
upon my camera’s glass
–photo by me
the whip still in his meaty hand,
he bellowed at his son,
“my pa whipped me when i was bad–
it never hurt me none!”
and so, in time, the boy grew up
to make the same admission–
what started out as child abuse
was now family tradition.
***
you either
face your demons
or they
raise your children
–unknown
I walked up on the old mine dump
and found clover here and there,
and army worms up in the trees,
and flowers everywhere.
–Photos by me
we are born into a trap:
we must rent or buy a space
for ourselves in this world,
so we work… often for others.
we are indoctrinated as children
into silly beliefs and ideologies.
it looks like we have no choice;
we must submit to the machine.
however, there are those rare
moments of lucidity when we
catch glimpses of something
better, deeper, more soulful.
we read books and poetry,
watch movies, go to church–
always on the hunt for more
of those uplifting glimpses.
we are obsessed with it.
we hope that someday those
visions will come together
in a meaningful way,
like some cosmic puzzle,
and we will finally know that
which we have only glimpsed.
–photo by me
wildfire smoke in the skies
makes for a lovely sunrise,
but the woods, i am learning,
ain’t all that is burning–
right now, it’s my throat and my eyes.
–photo by me
michaeljordahl 