PHOTO PROMPT © David Stewart Luggage double-checked? Yes Passports and tickets? Yes, all in my attache. Hotel reservations? Yes, adjoining rooms off of the pool. Stop-mail and newspaper delivery notices confirmed? No, but Mary will collect them daily for us. Kids’ bags double-checked? Yes. Billy tried tried to pack Hermie. The school knows they will…
Month: August 2022
dVerse Haibun Monday and earthweal weekly challenge — (river) bed’s graveyard
Algae in a water sample from the St. Croix River, magnified about 200x. (Photo by Aiden T., student from Lee & Rose Warner Nature Center) Just as a forest provides a specialized ecosystem that includes shelter for its inhabitants along the food chain, so too does a river. Having grown up and lived my life…
TSM225 — Still. Listen.
Fierce air parched, dust runs red; shuffle the mine where the dead speak. Still. Listen. Auger turns, its wet whisper stirs gold. Cool shadow caves fill empty space; light of grace wings its way to quench. Carrie is the host of The Sunday Muse.
The Beatles — Abbey Road Automatons
I just happened across this on fb and had to share it.
earthweal OLW 133 and Suzanne’s Calm Reflections — Magnetic Poetry 082622 — life symphony
A thousand-life symphony’s run, bare beauty heaving, beat rain like raw, honeyed mist sprayed in Spring. Never swim fast through storm how I like; if I sit here and dream, you want me. Cool skin boils when frantic fingers drive. Water woman watch and chant language of blue for what was and why; she cry…
dVerse — MTB — Kiss of the Goddess
Quail from your downward darting kiss from Siegfried Sassoon’s, The Kiss quail skitter in yesterday’s green from under ferny parasols your face flickers, a cinema, downward; frayed cellulose reruns darting confabulation’s myth kiss me again, again ’til dust kiss without bed of delusion darting sparks; myth made manifest downward wrung, convergence breathes life your heart’s…
#FF — home is heaven
PHOTO PROMPT © Brenda Cox A lump of dirt presses into Mei’s ribs. Slabs of sunlight between the alley shed’s slats light strips of her hollow-cheeked face as she curls behind old tires. What will Jinn, her ten-year-old son, scout out and bring back to her today? Jinn comes home late after scavenging dumpsters and…
Tao Talk 