Lee Madgwick safe am I; green velvet glove cushions me. protected from harm, the fires in the hearths warm; seamless clay walls and chimneys, each story’s windows caulked and locked; a fortress, constructed brick by brick. sleep comes easy without anxieties, yet why are my dreams about escaping? sometimes, when awake, it’s hard to breathe…
Author: Lisa or Li
mother, grandmother, gardener, observer of nature, reader, writer, learner, bicyclist, woman who runs with the wolves, lover of music, philosophical daoist. Welcome.
Music that Strikes a Chord — Rainy Night in Georgia, as sung by Brook Benton
Brook Benton (1959) Since Spotify has decided to stop working with the bluetooth in my car, I’ve started carting CD’s along again. I’ve been listening to “Box of Rock,” which is a 3-CD set that has so much old gold in it; re-recorded songs but still sung by the original artists, which makes it especially…
#FF — Like a King
PHOTO PROMPT © Trish Nankeville Harald lived with his family over the fence. Wise Queen Martha chose Gene’s yard. Gene was a gardener who enjoyed bringing new cultivars home. He squeezed them into the already overflowing beds from spring until fall; a dazzling array of colors and fragrances. When Gene planted cushion hakea, Harald went…
Moonshots in September 2022
I am part of a clan mother’s group that celebrates the full moon each month. On Friday and Saturday I made the effort to get outside and grab some shots of the glorious Lady Luna. The first three were taken Friday night, from both inside and outside, and the last three were taken Saturday night.
dVerse — Prosery — apples, alyssum, and arnica
I’d like, too, to plant the sweet alyssum that smells like honey and peace. by Katherine Riegel, from the poem, “What I would like to grow in my Garden.” Summer’s wandered off. Harvest moon presides during crisp-aired dormiveglia that sweetens the apples. Not quite autumn, sunshine continues cavorting with wind’s playful nips. Today, Melba strolls…
TSM 227 — Angel without wings
[Inmates playing chess from prison cells, Attica Correctional Facility, Attica, New York], March 1972, Photography by Cornell Capa Born in chaos, bathed in misery; ribs stoved in until my red fist was an icy stone. Iron contains the beast; clanks as grunts of ghosts echo in canyons of justice. It took a queen to thaw…
dVerse — MTB — aphorism
No matter how limited the supply, scavengers will eat. I started thinking about how expensive all resources are getting. Food, shelter, water, heating & cooling costs, when combined, can be too much to afford for many by traditional methods. People who are in need and desperate need to get creative. Like scavengers in nature, I…
Tao-Talk 