Susan's Tags I love to share!
Lush green leaves sprout and spread on my twigs.
¨My leaves are growing Momma, they're growing!" I say shaking for her attention.
¨I see it my little one, I see it," she says as she looks toward the sun breathing in the rays, her branches stretching back to life.
"When will the birds come to play with us? When, when, when?" I wobble around splaying myself out to capture each ray I can.
¨Any day now, if you listen you can hear the faint flapping of their wings in the distance.¨
I try to stop sucking in the water from my roots to hear better, but it is too hard. "I can't hear anything."
¨One day you will, you will,¨ Momma says.
Right when the clock hit 12:00 p.m. Taytum Murphy got up from her desk grasping her Nike gym bag and headed to the bathroom to change. She came out with a black Lycra outfit sculpted to her body, a silver backpack flopping behind her. A comic book hero rolling through the tan cubicles. She draped her blazer, collared shirt, and trousers over her ergonomic chair so they wouldn't wrinkle and left the office.
Did you see my latest daily exhibit? I dabble in different mediums. I set shell mosaics in the sand at high tide. Spirals and swirls. Stack seaweed sculptures with kelp embellishments. They plump and hum with flies. Smooth bas-relief patterns onto the shore in wavy expressions of love. Shape-shifting.
Exhale my art and inhale the collaborational accents at low tide. Seagulls palmate painting making webbed impressions. Dogs scraping lines of searching stories. Children forming sand castles and streams. Lovers carving their names in hearts. I pull them back into me when my mother, the Moon, drags me in. I used to resent the turbulence of the tides, but I understand them now, the rhythm to my masterpieces.