The Cost

fired casings

 

Assay the cost of

Apathetic heads

Or cheeks that turn

Again

The other way.

Know the high price of

Silence that

Lets massacre

Take hold for yet

Another day.

Do not give in.

Do not let up.

Step forth

And raise your voice

In truth

So it rings clear

Above the fray.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Suspiciously Quiet

be like mommy

Photo: Pinterest

 

The quiet lingered enough to have the mother lift her head from the small screen of the phone.

“Emma?” She inquired.

A longer silence returned no response.

She rose and walked toward the child’s bedroom. The three-year-old was outgrowing afternoon naps but sometimes still could be found slumbering amidst her toys.

The door was open. The girl’s room was empty. She peeked into the bathroom. Empty, too.

“Emma!?” Her voice rose. This time in alarm.

A faint shuffle came from the direction of the master bedroom. Nothing more.

“Emma, where are you?” She demanded.

“Here …” The extra pause and small voice held suspicious hesitation.

Urgency made the few steps feel oddly prolonged. The woman felt heartbeat pulse in the space between her tongue and throat. She pushed open the door …

The child’s cheeks were mascara blotches, her mouth and chin bloomed various shades of lipstick. She had a second set of eyebrows. Her little feet sported rose hues that merged into the floor. The room reeked from a cacophony of perfumes, nail polish, and something that smelled suspiciously like aftershave.

“Hi,” the little girl managed, guilty as they come. “I … I was getting pretty so it be your party.”

 

 

For The Daily Post

A Claim To Being

Together AtaraKatz

Photo: Atara Katz

 

In every day

There’s room for

Gentle lectures

About living.

No scolding.

No critic.

Just a voice

To give

Some space,

A softened claim

To being.

 

 

 

For The Daily Post

Chasing Life

chasing pigeons1

Photo: Chagit Moriah-Gibor

 

For all the little ones in my life: Right here, nearby, quite far; right now or not but in my heart you always are … For all of you who chase life (and sometimes Central Park pigeons), and grab hold of every moment’s possibility with two tenacious hands:

You teach me lots more than I ever could teach you.

You are each life, exemplified.

 

For Tuesday Photo Challenge

Conjure Hope

Light IlyaRashap

Photo: Ilya Rashap

 

Conjure hope

From odd bits

Of despair.

Recall the magic

Of compassion

Summoned from thin air.

Remember how small light

Brightens

Everywhere.

 

 

For The Daily Post

Mnemonically Challenged

 

teachingmomser.com

Photo: teachingmomster.com

 

“I failed the test,” she sighed and let her book bag slump to the floor.

“What test, and I’m so sorry.” I responded.

“Social studies. History stuff. I studied so hard!” She plunked herself into the chair. Dejection personified. “Who put all those stupid names and dates in there, anyway?”

“Names and dates can be really difficult to remember,” I noted. “I find it helpful to connect them with the story of what happened, or with something else to remind of what the name or date relate to.”

“Yeah, well,” her eyes rose to meet mine, accusatory at my not understanding she just needed me to let her vent. “But you are not mnemonically challenged!”

 

 

For The Daily Post

Life, Simplified.

draw a baby

Photo: King College, London

 

“It’s not hard,” she said. “Here, I’ll show you.”

“You make a circle …” she demonstrated. “Then you make eyes and mouth and little bit of hair and hands and legs. See?”

She held the drawing up to show me. Lines for arms and legs sprouted out of the crooked circle ‘head,’ topped by a few smaller lines of a sparse mohawk.

“Then,” she planted the paper back on the table, “you go to the hospital and the doctor makes magic and it’s a baby.”

 

 

For The Daily Post