Polar
Vortex
︎︎︎ Pat Dunham
︎ Apr 2, 2025
On my quest to the treasury
within a toddler reaches up for the corpse flower in bloom. Brain all flooded
orchard over snow and ash as the 3 Fates weave their text far away, on rock,
under sun, at the brink of the unknown. A blink in memory’s landscape made
pure. Her neck of flames, Arabic script whispering Sell your cleverness Buy
bewilderment where tulip bulbs brim and sip. We share their pod of
blessing, pausing as the sun pools us in light, falling through time as the
steam pipe knocks its metal heart.