Photo: Amitai Asif
In the depth
Of the winter,
Where so much
Appears dead,
Plan ahead.
For there are places
Where nature,
Finally rain fed,
Blooms into
Fields
Of red.
For the One Word Sunday Challenge: Red
For Cee’s FOTD
Rain Fed Red
Month: February 2019
Essentially
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
“Essentially, it should just be a matter of putting one foot in front of the other,” Dan noted, raising a mischievous bushy eyebrow and staring meaningfully at the assembled group of aspiring hikers. “Only that for some of us this might be an impossibility, seeing that … well …”
The participants laughed.
The six youngsters had barely five feet between them, let alone the assumed two per beating heart.
Dan had none.
“So,” the bearded guide waved a muscular arm over the skateboard that supported his legless torso. “We do something better.”
He pointed at each of the youngsters and their varied modes of conveyance. “We glide, we slide, we roll, we hop, we drive. We do whatever is necessary, and …” he chuckled, “because lunch will be served at the end of this path, we best get started or we’ll also end up doing it hungrily.”
For the SoCS challenge: ends with -ly
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Into The Horizon
Photo: S. Levenberg
There was a gap in the horizon and she was going to walk through it even if it meant a pass into another world. Even if it proved a portal to a completely different side of life.
There was a gap in the horizon and it beckoned her to come inside. To walk away from all she’d known and all she could no longer understand, and into what she didn’t know, but may arrive.
For the Weekend Writing Prompt: Horizon in 74 words
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The Balance
Photo: Sue Vincent
She did not understand where the castle had gone.
Tumbled walls
Like broken bones.
But the well was still there,
And the sword
Wrapped in stone,
Had waited stored
Well ensconced.
She took the hilt
Spelled the spell
And the blade pulled out
Clean
Glowing green,
Showing
All was still wrong
Just as all was still well.
She took a deep breath
And exhaled.
Because though
Times had changed
At least the balance
Remained.
For Sue’s Thursday WritePhoto Prompt: Blade
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Visibly Invisible
Photo: Amitai Asif
What do you see
When you look, but
Do not
Actually
See me?
Is it the shadow
Of what you believe
You ought to
See,
Or the reflected
Image
Of what you wish
You could
Be,
Or what you think
I must be
In order
To be visible
Enough
To be verified
As me?
For the d’Verse challenge
For the A Photo A Week Challenge: Depth of Field
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Unworthy
Photo: Robert Hickerson via Unsplash
They brought them in at dark, under the covers of secrecy and night.
Children, torn from loved ones, placed behind barbed wire, watched by burly guards.
“Your fault for coming,” they were told. “And now you’re too much work to reunite.”
For Three Line Tales
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Not a Hare
Photo © Anshu Bhojnagarwala
“Mama,” Benny shook me. “Something’s in the bushes!”
I must’ve dozed off.
It had been nice to have the campgrounds for ourselves.
Till now.
“Perhaps a hare.” I tried. Would a campfire keep out cougars? I felt for my utility knife. Our only weapon. Ridiculous.
Benny frowned. “It’s crying.”
It was. My heart thumped as I stalked toward the sound.
My flashlight illuminated the tear-stained face of a child. A child?! She had to be younger than Ben. Alone?!
I gasped.
She shivered. Fear or cold or both?
“Come, Sweetie,” I cooed. “We won’t hurt you. Let’s get you warm.”
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
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Determined
Photo: Dvora Freedman
Rise above
Hardship’s fray
In gentle curls
Of delicate
Pink,
And an underbelly
Of powerful
Orange
Smelted from the
Brink.
For Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: Orange and Pink
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Growth Spurt
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
He was so small
I recall,
How did he grow
Suddenly so?
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Growth
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The Cost of Living
Photo: Inge Vandormael
She had come to make a new life.
She found illness. She found death.
And life, perhaps, hiding in the shadows
Of her convalescing sorrow,
Waiting
To take hold.
She had come in search of meaning.
She found a babble of confusion.
Within. Without.
Rising skyward. Buried underground.
She found hope, too. For things she didn’t know
Even had names
But sprouted meaning
In the corners of what she believed
Was ruined,
But had in fact been opened
To allow in the winds of change.
She came seeking answers,
And found the cost
Of living
Paid for little more than added questions,
And that she had to look
Quite closely
At what wasn’t there,
To find
What she did not even know
She had been searching for.
Photo: The old Smallpox Hospital on Roosevelt Island (a narrow island set in the East River between Queens and Manhattan).
For What Pegman Saw: Manhattan Island
Na'ama Yehuda 
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