L'aura del Campo

The chartreuse swamps of home [176.25]

The chartreuse swamps of home

Zoom past
a vast green expanse
sweeping between horizons:
islands of jade colored sticks,
puddles of seafoam, emerald
quagmire and quicksand
oozing in between
arranged like a still-life
under a gloomy sage bowl.

It could be Kansas,
except for the water;
its emptiness will remind you
of bears in Belarus—
but this isn't Earth—
and you're not human—
anymore.

The moaning wind never stops;
yet, you only feel it on slick skin.
The smell of rot surrounds you
but you can't tell without a nose.
Your friends can't see you;
no one has eyes.
Once you had a thousand ears;
now you hear nothing.

Wiggle roots where once you had feet.
Let your blueblood rise to stretch out
what once were your arms.
Mouth at a vermillion star:

PRY OPEN OUR BUDS

and wait for the gloom to part.

Far from
the chartreuse swamps of home
you bloom

© Kåre Enga [176.25.gz] (6.abril.2019)

Written sitting in the tub. The prompt was "bloom".

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