Under the leaves that have freshly fallen,
under the browned, softer ones
and under the mulch and humus debris beneath them,
lies my soul.
Chest to chest with the earth.
It’s the press of a lover.
Of anguish and a heart’s desperation.
A place where pride has long gone.
Are you there?
Can you feel me?
Across the improbable,
your steps echo through the ground
a distant staccato as they walk unaware through their daily tasks.
I lay here in the undergrowth straining for every sound,
every whisper that speaks to me of you.
It is an elixir, a blade, an addiction,
it is never enough
and it is all I have left.
© Elsa Holland
Image © Dascha Friedlová
Beautiful. You poetry is devastatingly beautiful. I love how it is in such harmony with Dascha’s work too.
Thank you Catherine. It’s a very different avenue of expression than my novel writing. I would like to do more of it but it seems to require a certain energy and space. Many of my pieces are written in ‘the moment’ as a mood comes through me. Of course editing but on the whole just to push for clarity, the piece itself some through as a whole with that energy.
Dascha’s work has a real relationship with it, I agree. 🙂
I did try to comment yesterday but it didn’t go through. I found this haunting, so evocative I could smell the loam. Exquisite.
Thank you Daisy 🙂
This is such an earthy poem…so very human…I can smell it. A dank sweet and sour that encapsulates both life and decay