Seed
Willow, cut to its hidden houses.
Something secret furls
unfurls its stem-self
seed
slopes slews
under crystal
skin
(its)
flesh
blooms
to tone –
coralling a milky alumben
in water’s distress,
floats,
|stays|
alive
winds its silver
thread in brine –
fleshed frond
&
secret,
still –
a
silver thread
pulls-up
willow’s
ochre
curtain.
Truncated
cut, yet
I saw it —
willowGrove
willowGrief —
winter / flower / blossoms
lie on wet ground
bereft of their generations
seed will lie
| seed will lie |
Copyright Chris Murray, 2021
First published Timber Literary Journal, September 2021
Online URL: https://timberjournal.org/archive/seed
a note about the text
the poem seed responds to a series of poems (seed, cells, hunger) first published in the blind (2013). I have taken the blind out of circulation as I am working with the text at this time.
Chris Murray 