You’d paint your immaculate petals
tiny as life if we had time to look.
I lean eye level with pageants of colour
disarrayed with yellow dust
hints of nectar where bees feed.
You merge intimately with your blooms
or disfigure them bleached with desert skulls
exposed to living eyes.
I never walked your purple hills
where variegated leaves concede to russet
but I hang lines of clouds
in a box of a book that fits my pocket.
I have lived above those clouds
without losing my way
and I look for myself in your adobe barns
whenever I come to earth.
Mori Glaser grew up in the UK and moved to Israel 30 years ago. Her poetry appears in journals such as Unbroken; Crack the Spine; Vine Leaves coffee table book; Between the Lines Anthology of Fairy Tales and Folklore Reimagined. She won 3rd prize in The Molotov Cocktail’s 2017 Shadow Award.
Her flash appears in Arc 24 and Akashic Books web series Thursdaze.
The Ekphrastic Review
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