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Jul 2018 · 832
The Birth of Spring
Matthew Filipek Jul 2018
In some lost, moss covered grove, lifeless, she layed…
Then Green Venus tipped her basin, showering
streams of endless water thrashing and splashing
atop her ***** then rushing down her bronzen brae.
Flushed in feminine essence, she opened
her great shell to fill with sumptuous water
‘till it spilled and gushed the ribbed edges over
and onto the soil did Spring’s milk descend.
Drenched and dripping she bursts from dormancy
to embrace her first morning of animation
through misty flurries and fluid gyration
leaving slushy trails of puddles and pollen
and, through dew soaked skies, dawn’s first amber light
Illuminates Spring, fully wakened and alive.
Jul 2018 · 307
Bedside
Matthew Filipek Jul 2018
Weep, sweet angel flower,
Weeping her coral blossom dim.

Bloom, smothering fumes,
Blooming within the stifling kin.

Hum; her gloaming eyes—
Humming an awful requiem—

Instill, in all, indelible air.
Be still, sweet angel flower.

— The End —