The Cedarville Review 2018

34 THE CEDARVILLE REVIEW Poetry by Tesla Klinger ORGANIC I am organic, made of warm loam and foam That collects on the creek surface in spring. I sprint, then rest, and try to catch sunlight through a leaf’s breach. And you do not You, being mechanical, reek of oil slicked metallic gears. Formed of right angles, you proceed in calculating motions And every noise you make is a rhythmic click. Not so with me I sway with each gust of wind, allow myself to meander and muse the Formation of petals and bubbles that appear when rain hits water But bubbles break into nothing and petals fall at evening’s wink