Sonnet: Mchele to Wali

for Bob
Spring is sewn in summer’s sweating earth,
a seed of an idea too small to see.
I walk through mud and wonder what it’s worth
to wait for warmth we trust will come to be:
After a frost, a freeze, a dismal streak,
the promise of renewal is a call
that echoes off the clouds and sounds so weak
it comes late if it even comes at all.
We sleep, we fall, we curl against the dark,
we dream of things we wouldn’t dare to think.
These days are hardly here, these nights are stark,
and yet the peonies are blooming pink.
I know that I am scared. I don’t know why.
We stand still when we really want to fly.
by Audubon Dougherty

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This is part of a series of featured entries in our first-ever poetry contest.
Stay tuned for more and get ready to vote for your favorite!

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100 Words: Seven years and one falafel

.
ou come around the corner from out of a time machine. A few hairs on your beard have gone white but otherwise the only thing that has changed is the presidency and my teeth. Also you are wearing new glasses. Perhaps you don’t remember the time you put me in a headlock and I instinctively punched you in the face, my fist backwards, the way you’d taught me. Pieces of glass fell in triangles at our feet. I notice them now between the concrete and futility between us. I was so proud of my strength back then. I still am.
by Audubon Dougherty

 

Exposure № 008: Portraits

Audubon Dougherty shares these two moments with Dr. Hurley.  We love the beautiful contrast and peaceful mood of these photos.

And the booger.

Exposure № 004: Tie me up/tie me down

Audubon Dougherty has creative friends who double as accommodating tie models.