Thrush Poetry Journal
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Kelly DuMar
​

woods cycle
 
I.
 
Leaf of cracked copper
lace crusted and grayed
 
you are floor of November.
 
Leave your material
your finite, your matter
 
less organ, more humus
more scatter.
 
Spring, sprout more
hemlock, black tupelo
 
moss, maple and swamp
wild blueberries
—​
 
                        anemones.
 
II.
 
O geranium
woodsy bloom
of perennial rhizome
veined flower of lavender
—​
you butterfly childhood.
Each of your seeds
curls open when ripe.
 
III.
 
Pale petal heart
of wild rose
—​
 
            so lush on your bush
            just last Sunday
—​
 
flung by wind
—​throb
on this surface of swamp
                                                                                                                                              
blued briefly by sky
before decay
—​purify.
 
IV.
 
Wake nowhere near dawn
                        windows open
listen
—​the leaves
noise of nothing
                        catastrophic –
just this deciduous
rain-rinse of lavish
                        and shameless.



​

Kelly DuMar is a poet, playwright and workshop facilitator from Boston. She’s author of three poetry chapbooks, 'girl in tree bark' (Nixes Mate, 2019), 'Tree of the Apple,' (Two of Cups Press), and 'All These Cures,' (Lit House Press). Her poems, prose and photos are published in many literary journals including Bellevue Literary Review, Tupelo Quarterly, Crab Fat, Storm Cellar, Corium & Tiferet. Kelly blogs her daily nature photos & creative writing at kellydumar.com/blog




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