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1 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

I am looking for the one who helped me see the world through both my eyes

Scabiosa owerinii

I could think of nothing else,
but to give someone, something

And in the giving
    I gave to myself
that which I needed most.

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2 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

Inula conyza,
Bupleurum falcatum


Speak of your pain
and I will speak of mine.

And perhaps,
    in the spaces between
        your body
            and my own

We will find the parts of ourselves
that only the souls can quietly call out.

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3 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

I keep hearing Everything's going to be OK. She said, I just don't believe it     Yet.

Astrantia maxima, 
Salvia nemorosa,
Knautia montana,
Dianthus cretaceus


You spoke the words
    in my mouth

Before they could escape
    my lips

and I felt the heart
    in my chest
        Leave me
            for the warmth of yours.

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4 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

Melilotus officinalis

Never is a place I've been.
I found you there
    a time or two.
        Then others.
Then myself.

But never is a place I've been
    more times than never,
    but less than forever.

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5 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

We meet in the basements Of churches, Under the eyes Of people who refuse     To see us.

Filipendula ulmaria

Burning the earth beneath me
I bring it up with my hands

That I might put the bowl
    to your lips

And you drink in
The sweet meadow.

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6 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

Solidago virgaurea, 
Epilobium angustifolium,
Scabiosa owerinii, 

Salvia nemorosa, 
Melilotus officinalis,
Valeriana officinalis,

Knautia montana

I climbed to a lake in the sky
That spoke two languages.

It was by the water's edge
    that I buried you.

As I descended
I felt light in my emptiness.

I looked up
Seeing a single wolf
    on the precipice

Heading back down towards the world below.

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7 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

Our pain asks us to sit with it     For it is lonely too.

Dianthus cretaceus

A damp morning
sang the song of the horse;
    short and high and secret
        and rare.

Climbing over the bow of color
    in the grey, yellow sky,
        Its song dipped and bent
            with the north wind
                singing chorus in the trees
                    until it landed in the fields afar.

Good morning,
    it sang.
I sing of the colors you cannot see.

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8 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

Trifolium arvense

Ink on the page,

like blood in the vein.

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9 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

The souls of trees     are in the sky. That is why they reach     so high.

Senecio grandidentatus,
Epilobium angustifolium


As summer ascended,
The flowers I gave you
    grew wings

        And flew away.

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10 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

Campanula rapunculoides,
Verbascum laxum


I hear the coyotes
scream in the night.

Calling out over the expanse
Filling empty space of cow pastures.
    Hello
    Where are you?
   
Coming together through sound and spirit.

Their sounds are so joyous.
    So joyous.

They raise my soul up
to the dark skies;
Give me hope.

It is as if they know
When my soul resides below the earth;
When it is trapped within my body;
When it aches
    to fly out into the fields
        and breath in the damp, tenebrous air.

Then they call.

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11 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

As I laid beside you All I really wanted to do Was touch you.

Gentianopsis ciliata

In her loneliness
    She created in him
        Someone who was not there.

Seeing flowers
    Where there were only
        fallen leaves.

She wanted so badly
    to apologise
        to a spectre who never existed.

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12 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

Gentiana septemfida

I can not sleep.
I can not help sleeping.

I dream of prison towers
and walking up invisible staircases

Then I wake with eyes dampened.
I can feel the ridges along my brow.

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13 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

They tell me I escape the world     by running through it.

Woronowia speciosa

You did not know
Because you could not feel it.

And you left
So you could not see it.

My long loose hair
    Falling to a wood floor.

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14 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

Geranium sanguineum,
Astrantia maxima

Because
    You hung my bouquet
    By your door
    for too many years.

Because
    The petals and the leaves
    fell to the floor
    with every passing person
        and day.

The master's wort
    curled in,
    became brittle.
The geraniums,
    gasped for air
    transluscent.

Because
    As the sides of your home
        fell in
    and the winter air made you cold,

And you brought the flowers to me,
ashen and falling around your fingers
saying,

                "I did not forget you.
I only laid you down for a time."

Not realizing that I too
    had become ashen
        and fallen.

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15 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

It was so simple. She had simply     one day         been forgotten.

Leucanthemum vulgare

Then came the day

When she did not want

In her life

The person see used to

Love the most.

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16 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

Tanacetum macrophyllum

The memory

of being thrown aside

Created in her

a need to outgrow

him

and his pain.

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17 of 18 © 2022 Clary Estes

I wish to be seen. I wish to be unseen.

Potentilla ruprechtii, 
Melilotus officinalis,
Securigera varia

He tried again
and failed.

It was not the attempt
that was a failure,

but something else
entirely.

Maybe it is what we try
to give each other.

The hands full of flowers.
The best parts of ourselves.
So that we might be taken in
and make you smile
As we are held with care.

Maybe it hurts.

Maybe it is beautiful,
but wilts away.

Then we return to the fields
of clover and honey and fireweed
before the autumn sets
And we try again.

Running back to our homes
with another gift torn
from the meadow
Of our selves.
Public Story
Flower Portraits
Copyright Clary Estes 2022
Date of Work Aug 2019 - Aug 2019
Updated Dec 2019
Location Tusheti, Georgia
Topics Abandonment, Abstract, Arts, Beauty, Conceptual, Dreams, Emotion, Environment, Essays, Faith, Feminism, Film, Fine Art, Forest, Freedom, Friends + Family, Happiness, Hope, Joy, Loss, Love, Mental Illness, Peace, Photography, Portraiture, Relationships, Sexuality, Sorrow, Spirituality, Still life, Wildlife, Womens Rights, Yearning

Clary Estes

Clary Estes is a documentary photographer and writer from Central Kentucky who works internationally.
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