The Tallest Tears

Flowers-NaamaYehuda 2022

(photo: Na’ama Yehuda)

 

The tallest flowers caught her eye, but it was the withered daffodils that caught her breath and pressed a fist into her heart.

His favorites.

The stalwart sentinels of spring.

Outnumbered now. Outshone. Outdone.

As was he.

After utterly too short a time.

Her throat constricted. A reflex of holding what she’d learned would be a solitary cry.

“Look, Mama!” a child trilled. “The daffodils are tired!”

“Yes, darling,” a woman’s voice returned. “They did excellent work and are resting now, sleeping till next spring.”

Tears slid. It was something he’d say.

She should have known he’d send a messenger.

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers.

Thank you, Rochelle, for using my photo for the prompt this week. And, for all who manage loss, especially of those taken too young in all manners of war – may you know that we remember, and we listen, and we will not forget.

Spring Unfolds

luminous park NaamaYehuda

(Photo: Na’ama Yehuda)

 

The sun shone

As spring gently yet

Resolutely strode

On.

The park evolved into

A luminous

Expanse

Of green

Shoots

And pink petals

Unfold.

A respite

From the winter’s

Cold.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Luminous in 30 words.

 

Out-Strutted

 

ted-strutz-street

 

They knew they’d need some help. They knew where to find it.

They weren’t very good at building anything, even less at securing it to withstand the snow, the winds, the cops.

Or so they hoped.

It was better to make use of what was already present.

What others, who had better skill and quite possibly better sense, had built.

Sure, some called it squatting. Some found them vagabonds.

But why not when the struts provided good foundations?

It was a pity, really, that so many did not understand.

The cops raided one night. Tossed the tents.

Kept the struts.

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt © Ted Strutz

 

 

Herself

lorenzo-fatto-offidani-IzyzbQie838-unsplash

(Photo: Lorenzo Fattò Offidani on Unsplash)

 

They told her to not

Make waves.

That to speak out is

Provocative

And that it is

Unladylike.

Unseemly.

And goes against the word of

God

As interpreted by

Themselves

Who see it as their duty

To

Control

Her.

They told her to be meek.

To atone

For the sins

Of

Eve.

She stood.

Unfurled.

Provocative.

As the Goddess made her.

Herself.

 

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Provocative in 62 words

 

A Matter of Faith

bernard-hermant-PrZw3_3xUxI-unsplash

(Photo: Bernard Hermant on Unsplash)

 

It mattered not how many times he’d pressed the issue, urged she ‘see the light.’

She would not deny her own reality for his. She could not worship his Gods. His requirement of absolute adherence to ideas over facts. Over reason. Over voice.

“It’s not about facts,” he insisted, annoyed by her refusal to acquiesce. “It’s about compliance. The lesson of faith.”

“That kind of faith isn’t in my lexicon,” she said.

“Then pray on it till it is,” he turned, locked the door, left.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Lexicon in 85 words

 

Season For Reason

Sunflowers InbarAsif

(Photo: Inbar Asif)

 

‘Tis the season for

Reason.

Time for soul to be

Bold.

Time to oust stale perceptions

And to justice

Uphold.

‘Tis the season for

Reason.

To let true heart

Take root

And dishonesty

Doom,

So the summers of

Tomorrow

May

Sing sunflowers to

Bloom.

 

 

For the dVerse quadrille poetry challenge: Season

 

 

Or So He Claims

sandra-grunewald-1XrUUhSdnxk-unsplash

(Photo: Sandra Grünewald on Unsplash)

 

He would not ever harm

Another

Soul.

Or so he claims.

He says he doesn’t see the benefit

Of such a

Game.

His very words

Exclaim

Just how incapable he is of

Admitting blame

Or having even the

Appearance of

Shame.

It is clear to her that what

He purports

To be,

Makes him the very

Opposite of who

She will agree

to see.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Purport in 64 words

 

Farewell

sunset Ramon Crater AmitaiAsif

(Photo: Amitai Asif)

 

They said farewell.

They said goodnight.

They walked into dark

From light.

Their hearts were sad.

Their eyes were bright

With tears that grief will soon ignite.

Her passing’s new

Her suffering done.

They walked with her as

One cycle ended and a new began.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Goodnight in 45 words

Dedicated with love to my aunt, whose funeral is across an ocean and a sea tonight. May her memory be a blessing.

 

 

The Gift

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(Photo: Jennifer Burk on Unsplash)

 

She was not there.

Of course, she did the work. She wiped the sinks. She did the wash. She peeled the taters. Washed the floors.

But she was not there.

Not when people stopped by. Not where there were any windows open or any blinds up.

She’d been smuggled to them as a child.

A gift.

From someone.

To the man and lady of the house.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Smuggle in 66 words

 

Necessary

 

“So the lower level is buried under and the upper level is inaccessible. Apt. Shouldn’t it say ‘Dung View’?”

Darlene chuckled. Mom wasn’t shy about imparting opinions. Darlene was not all that different, even if she didn’t always find words to be necessary.

Necessary. The double meaning turned her giggle into a guffaw.

“What?” Mom insisted. She hated being left out.

“Nothing necessary…” Darlene’s laughter intensified. She clasped at her belly and tried to point. “Or … perhaps it is…”

Mom eyed the outhouse. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Drop your snow-pants. I’ll dig you a chamber pot.”

 

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

Photo prompt: © LIsa Fox