PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson Not a Dream He woke up, disoriented. The last thing he remembered was unclipping Fiyaro’s leash from his collar and thinking about getting a cup of coffee after the run. Where was he? It wasn’t the Cape Cod cabin, but it was a familiar cabin; his grandparents’ guest house cabin…
Tag: grief
#FF — Trapped
PHOTO PROMPT © Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Trapped Any tea drinker knows that in order to make room for hot tea in the cup, she needs to sip or pour some of the cool out. Mary’s countertop is stained from spills. She’s never quite gotten the knack of giving a little. Mary, imprisoned by sentimental memories from…
Writober Days 12, 13, 14 and OLW #25 for Desperate Poets — Testament to Death
Mourning at the Cemetery by Robert C. George countless veils grieve cold, still ashes endless tears in an ocean of graves where mighty trees are receptacles of innocence and early endings; and testaments to memory-entrenched egos, of iron wills that will not bend; to death Maria Berg is hosting Writober. Also linking this to Brendan’s…
Kerfe’s RWG 15 — Graveside
You summon me with yoke of guilt; a filthy debt, your profit unsated. My fangs bared, ugly spoils to your curled finger. You find comfort in my squirm as you scrub salt into wounds still smashed, festering, oozing pools of woe. As of your death, there will be no paid in full. top image: “Mourning…
dVerse — Prosery — Empty Promise
This year’s a different thing, – I’ll not think of you. — Charlotte Mew, from “I so liked spring” Five years ago: “I swear, they wait until I fall asleep to come in and do their pusher, scavenger, and vampire duties,” you whisper from the rumpled bed. The dark circles under your eyes match the…
dVerse — Poetics — Ekphrastic senryu
twirling in freedom sick child dances in heaven parents weep at grave Right now I’m reading George Saunders’ 2017 novel, “Lincoln in the Bardo,” which revolves around Abraham’s son, Willie’s, death as a child and how Willie finds himself in a purgatory-type place called Bardo. Seeing this image immediately made me think of Willie Lincoln….
dVerse — Poetics — each thing falls away
at first I refused to believe overboard, swept out in the storm; wee dawn, on the beach, inert form I wailed in the throes of my grief your unwilling, early depart at whim of a god with no heart I vowed in exchange for relief if God roll back Time’s Tide and take moi instead,…
Tao Talk 