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Mar 11
Breeze bellows,
leaves echo in
quivering psithurism,
dithering like
unbroken smoke,
this approaching omen goads.

Dozing crows
slumbering in rows,
droves of locusts'
silenced drone,
almost comatose in repose;
nighttime overtones
choir of toads'
raspy croaks
answered by alto
of crickets' orchestral strokes.

Gust encroaches;
robed boughs
cloven open,
bring into
scope and focus
me juxtaposed,
suspended apropos.

Although motionless
and petrified in stone,
provoked by zephyr
coaxing to and fro;
swaying pendulous
and no longer frozen,
locus gently thrown.

Death rattle moan
evoked from throat,
reflex can't say no
to rigor rigidly posed,
final sigh in silence,
awoken vocal,
expelled and disposed.

Smote by
morose emotion,
gun loaded then exploded
by neurosis,
now bloated
necrosis decomposes
into gross ochre.

This trophy
and this ode
both an opus to
my inability to cope;
romanced i proposed,
eloped and betrothed to
my own
inappropriate composure.

Pocket full of posies
plucked when luck bestowed
and tears in a cup, a toast;
crying copiously,
tempest runneth overflowed,
eyes swollen and soaked.

Dipped my toes
in the coast
of this ocean's
amorphous folds,
gripped by undertow
holding control of my soul;
swiftly shipwrecked in
shallow shoal,
an old atoll.

On sandy floor,
water burrows roads;
digging, carving, roams
through unmarrowed
silica and sandstone
eroding into a cove.

A host for
opal geode trove,
enclosing a
technicolor rose,
from the depths
a glowing mosaic shone

Unopened lotus floats
on foam
of lapping waves,
a boat;
prone to no
grandiose notion
or motive,
adrift as wind stokes.

I suppose
this only shows
the total corrosion
into which I dove,
the only foes to oppose
are those of burdens, so
only weightless can I atone-
I must let go.
Not sure how i feel about this one, just because I'm not sure if it effectively communicates what I was trying to express... tried to revisit it several times over the last few years since i wrote it (hoping to maybe revise it a bit) but every time I've come up a little short on ideas how i might do that (to the point where ive been considering just scrapping it entirely and rewriting a Part 2 from scratch lol)... still not sure though, since it *is* a fairly coherent continuation of Part 1 (and I wanted to retain that continuity) so any criticism or feedback is especially appreciated for sure!

Also just some things for context while reading:

Psithurism is the sound wind makes through the trees.

Opal is made by water running through silica and sandstone then evaporating.

Lotus has a double meaning in lotus flowers (floating on lilypads) and also its use in Greek mythology as a plant which bears a fruit that when eaten causes dreamy forgetfulness and an unwillingness to depart.
Andrew Crawford
Written by
Andrew Crawford  31/M/Ohio
(31/M/Ohio)   
1.8k
   -A- and vb
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