February 2024
Evie Groch
egroch@comcast.net
Bio Note: I have a few singular messages to communicate about my tenuous origins, but I tell them over and over in a variety of ways and genres. I am always amazed at what I learn about myself. My passions are languages, travel, immigration, cuisine, justice, and relationships about which I write in Half the Hurricanes. I’ve been published in anthologies of poetry, short stories, and online magazines.

Unexpected

As fall fades to winter,
skeletal bleakness of empty,
arthritic tree branches
frame the sky as they stand
above the fruit they’ve dropped,
the hollow parachutes of petals
driven to ground.

But then, with an unexpected
pop of color, a flower appears
in the forlorn scenery, and
with its splendor, rallies
like a ballerina on point,
bringing the dance to a close
with its silent offering,
one final verse before
the season shift is complete.

Art Media

I spot an impromptu canvas:
The sidewalk confettied 
with dropped dimes,
an earbud without a mate, 
silver-foiled gum wrappers, 
fallen blossom petals,
a single earring, browning leaves.

I awaken to these urban tokens
of life. Hard surfaces and soft,
hues vibrant and muted. Cramped 
corners, negative space. 
In balance and out.

Once cleansed, hosed off, what aftermath
will appear on these cement squares?
On this rinsed slate, accidental art will 
continue to thrive in place, appear
randomly, unplanned, on the canvas
outside our door, no studio nor
easel required.

Rustic art invites us to seek out
canvases where they lie,
sort out the symbols gathered on them, 
make meaning of found elements
of life on the streets where integrity lives.
©2024 Evie Groch

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