Wetland Abandon

Wetland Abandon


The lungs of the bog
The fire in the forest
Low hanging weep-ends
Must is in the air

A life may begin in the ocean’s deep
And be swallowed beneath a confusion
Of fireflies and a night sky
In this wetland abandon

It may claw and bleed
It will praise and plead
But no wildflower will ever please
The salt and the choking air

Heaven or Hades it’s yet to be seen
A life wants to run, but fears
What it will be
A life wants to move, no traction
Will give leave
And it may pray, but the mind conceives
A certain death
The quiet release

Marsh, mud, locked vines
Comforts, sweat, and ache
And is it so much better
In the sunlit awning steps away?

Melanie Falconer is a freelance writer and editor living in Los Angeles, California. Her writing mainly concerns philosophy, personal experiences, cultural commentary, and her love of the visual and performing arts. If you’d like to reach out to her, you can do so here.

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