Photo: Inbar Asif
Old it stretched
Brooding shade
O’er neat furrows made,
Watching new rows reborn
And the greens
Field adorn,
Growing tall, rising now
Making lush, anyhow.
For the dVerse Poets Challenge: Shed
Light And Shed
Life and love
Bank On Peace
Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev
If nothing else
You can bank
On some peace
Come day’s end.
On a breath
By the water
When a ripple
Extends.
On a sigh
Of the chest
Born of awe
Seeped with ease.
You can count
On some peace
Come day’s end.
Me, too, please.
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Bank
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Chim-Chimney
Photo: Inbar Asif
Old slate well licked by lichen
And marbled
With moss,
Recalls clouds swirling
High
To kiss sky
With their smoke.
Jagged edges
Of years spent in
Rain, sun
And wind,
Hold with pride
To a chimney
That time hasn’t
Yet thinned.
For The Photo for the Week Challenge: chimneys and fireplaces
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The Tree
Photo: Amitai Asif
“I will wait by the tree,”
She had said.
“At the fork where
The road
Meets the lush, green
Horizon.”
Wait she did,
Day again and again
And a month, and another.
Wait until they had come
Trudging home
From the war,
Wearing smiles, but
Carrying the weight
Of their sorrows
Around them.
For Becca Givens’ Sunday Trees
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Radium Springs Roulette
“Well then,” Mom exclaimed.
She was going over Poppa’s papers while I boxed seemingly endless books.
I looked up. There was an album in her lap, black pages empty but for an old postcard.
“He denied it when I’d said he’d taken me there,” Mom whispered. “I was young and believed him, but my heart knew all the same.”
I shook my head. Poppa was as straight-laced as they came.
“He gambled,” she explained. “A salesman meant frequent traveling. He used it to hide visits to casinos.”
She fingered the card. “Radium Springs Casino. I knew I hadn’t dreamed this place. The deep blue water wove tightly with the wheel.”
I gazed at the memento. At my mom.
“I was not-yet-four,” she sighed. “Thomas was just born and Dad took me to ‘work’ so Mom could rest. He played the roulette. … Perhaps his keeping of the card was another gamble.”
For What Pegman Saw: Radium Springs, GA
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Fates and Faiths
Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev
In the depths of the city
Where new rubs shoulders
With old,
Uncounted passes of prayers
And woven statements
Enfold,
Fates and faiths of what’s been
And may yet find
Better ways
To be told.
For Wits-End Weekend Photo Challenge: repeating patterns
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Fatefully Furrowed
Photo: Chagit Moriah-Gibor
“What did this?”
Calvin gulped.
“What?!” Eric insisted. “A jeep?”
“Not a car.”
“What then?”
“We better turn back.”
Eric squinted at the muddy furrows.
“Nothing you want to meet in the dark,” Calvin shuddered and revved the motorcycle’s engine.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Furrowed in 40 words
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The Vanishing Point
Photo: Ofir Asif
At the vanishing point
They have passed
To be gassed,
Leaving us
To a world
That forever now must,
Not forget
How the place
Of no return
Has been crossed,
And we none are
The same
For hate’s shadow’s
Been cast.
In the name of those
Vanished
Who shall not be forgot,
We can vow to hold hope,
And let compassion
Outlast.
For Nancy Merrill’s A Photo a Week Challenge: Vanishing Point
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Beyond Scale
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
There’s little possible
Perspective
For how to scale
The size of feet
That for so many
Will not fit
In anyone’s shoes
Ever
Not before
Not since.
Trivia note: The photo above is a detail of the Reclining Buddha in Wat Pho Temple in Bangkok, Thailand (also known as “Temple of the Reclining Buddha” or Wat Phra Chetuphon). The giant Buddha measures 46 meters (over 150 feet) long, 15 meters (almost 50 feet) high, and is covered in gold leaf. The soles of the feet (depicted in the photo above) and the eyes are intricately carved with mother of pearl. The soles of the feet inscribe the 108 holy characteristics of the true Buddha, in both Chinese and Indian styles. The 20 acres of the temple complex also contains over a 1000 Buddha images, many tracing back centuries.
For Cee’s Black & White Photo Challenge: Unusual perspective
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The Gift
They didn’t mean to.
They had to think fast.
“What in God’s married name is that?!”
Gary glanced at Gloria. Mom only used the expression when the you-know-what was about to hit the fan.
“I told you this was stupid,” Gloria hissed as they ran to the door. “It only made it look worse!”
Gary shot her a “shut-up-and-let-me-handle-it” look.
“Hi Mom,” he announced and swung the door open so that (hopefully) only the taped side was visible. “Do you like it? It’s a Christmas tree duct tape art. To remind you of the holidays!”
For Rochelle’s FridayFictioneers
Na'ama Yehuda 
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