Photo: Atara Katz
Middle of nowhere to the right
A cabin’s leveraged on a cliff.
Amenities are extra-sparse.
The mountains, extra stiff.
A modest perch amidst snow caps
To rest
And watch clouds drift.
For The Daily Post
What Neighbors?
Life and love
Let’s Peek!
Photo: Osnat Halperin-Barlev
What are they looking at?
What did she want to see?
What hides behind that high stone wall?
What on earth could it be?
I tried to turn the image ’round
And it would not let me.
This photo oh does ever pique
My curiosity!
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Light Rise
tltweek92
Bathed in light
Wreathed in night
May your spirit gain height.
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Mystery Mom
Photo: AMDB7 on Flickr
She doesn’t know who her mom is. She was left as a newborn, wrapped in a piece of old bedsheet, under a pew in the church. Or so the story goes.
She spent her first year in the orphanage. Many mewling mouths and too few holding arms. She found a way to survive.
Halfway into her second year she got picked up, fussed over with odd sounds, carried out of the room that had been her world. It was confusing. It was good. It was a lot.
She has a family now. They love her. They are patient. Most of the time. They try.
She’s a big girl. Almost ten. She understands. Sometimes.
She still can’t help but wonder who she is. What made her undesirable. Why she was left, naked not only of clothes but of clues.
She still can’t help but wonder about the woman who’d had her, then left without a sound. The woman who isn’t even mist and fog of memory and yet she still is tethered to in heart and mind. Her Mystery Mom.
For The Daily Post
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Round & Round They Go
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
Up they climb
Ring-round they go
To reach a slide
To spin them
More.
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Ghoulish Goulash
Old Fashioned Goulash (Yummly.com)
She hates soup. She hates stew.
She can’t stand beef. Tomatoes, too.
She doesn’t care if it’s tradition.
She doesn’t care it’s grandma’s edition.
To her the concept is just foolish
And your goulash is plain ghoulish.
For The Daily Post
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Fluff’s Preamble
Photo: Amitai Asif
In a huff
It is easy
To dig in one’s heels
In rebuff and fumble,
When in truth
Fluff can
Just as well
Signal
New concepts
Awaiting
A draft’s timely
Arrival.
For The Daily Post
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Orange Central
Photo: Arlette Loeser
There’s a hue to the park
Tints of gold
Chardonnay
Dirty blond
Saffron.
A whole range of
Damp fire
Bridging
Fall
Dusk to dawn.
For The Daily Post
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Surreal
Photo: Amitai Asif
Melted rock
Underground
Softened stone
All around
Time dissolved
Eerie mounds
As eras drip
Without sound.
For The Daily Post
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Definite Identity
Photo: Inbar Asif
“The fact of being
Who or what
A person
Or thing
Is.”
A name.
A self.
A singularity.
A distinct
Individuality.
A recognition of
An original
Personality.
(Poem inspired by the Oxford Dictionary)
For The Daily Post
Na'ama Yehuda 
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