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Mother Mushroom Midwinter gloom seemed lightened by the hats Of Mother Mushroom and her kids, which glow To distant eyes. But closer eyes know that's How distance tends to lend, to views, a faux Enchantment. Underneath her hat there lurked Regret. The tears in Mother Mushroom's eyes Mourned days gone by when Nature's magic worked Unfalteringly to revitalize Spent forest. Yet today no fauna stay Here. Moths are gone, the birds have flown and deer Refuse to graze. The erstwhile forest way Of life has disappeared. A creeping fear, Of what may come, alarms the children and Makes Mother Mushroom weep for her old land. (First published in the Ekphrastic Review on 13th January, 2023 as a response to Mother Mushroom and Her Children by Edward Okun) |
Flying Machines For early aviators of the sky, Log-cabin-like designs are comic, as You cannot fly a circus wagon high: Its comfort tantalizes, but it has No force to lift it up and make the earth Grow distant. They would say the pictures are Miraculous as art, but have no worth As blueprints for a means to travel far ... Charles Dellschau would dissent. He would have said His quaint designs weren't meant for flights that go In space, but flights of fancy, which can head North, east, south, west, straight up or down below Earth's oceans—they can take you anywhere, So long as you imagine it is there! (First published in the Ekphrastic Review on 15th December, 2023 as a response to Flying Machines (double sided artwork) by Charles A.A. Dellschau) |
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