(Photo: Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash)
Impressed, she was.
The image etched into her mind.
The angle of his neck,
Head bent over the
Guitar,
Engraved
Onto her heart.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of Engrave in 23 words
Impressed
Meditations
Her Own Shadow
Evening light filtered through partially open curtains. Outside the porch’s floorboards sighed. A car’s engine coughed into life. The scent of crushed leaves and motor oil drifted on an errant breeze.
She sighed.
There will be time to sort through the tangled mess inside her heart, to sweep up shards of life, to breathe out the echoes of words she wished to never have heard.
Not yet.
For the moment, she just sat.
A shadow of her former self.
In a house that wept emptiness.
And let the space behind her eyes
Hold her as she waited
To be found.
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
Photo: © Dale Rogerson
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Hanging In
(Photo: Ray Fragapane on Unsplash)
They didn’t know then
Or still
What track life will
Bring.
Yet they hold on,
By bootstraps
Hoping
For just enough breath with which to
Sing,
To the sun
That would rise,
To the hope
That would
Cling.
Till dawn will
Another story
String.
For dVerse Quadrille Poetry challenge
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No Time For That
There was never enough time.
For that.
No time for the things that mattered but were not deemed essential.
No time for the space that was given no paths to traverse.
None for the slow breath that could have allowed a pause
In the constant
Race.
Because there was never time.
For that.
Too much buzzed already
From the break of dawn to the collapse of night.
No time for
Time.
And so, she stopped it.
Stopped time.
She let the hands rest.
Let the heart expand inside the fluttering confines of the
Chest.
She let the breeze
Set
The pace.
The leaves, believe.
The ground stretch long and wide beneath
The feet.
The skies expand across
The dawn.
To let
The space that had
Held on,
To finally
Allow itself to be
Redrawn.
For Crispina’s Crimson’s Creative Challenge
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Spring Unfolds
(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.
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Chalked Up
(Photo: Noita Digital on Unsplash)
The swirl of white had gotten
In her eye.
Placed a tickle in her
Throat.
The door would close.
The chairs will sleep with bottoms
Against table
Tops.
There would be no more
Early morns.
No damp sponge
To erase all of yesterdays’
Chalk.
For the dVerse quadrille poetry challenge: chalk in 44 words
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She Will Not Become
(Photo: Roberto Martinez on Unsplash)
She will not become a mannequin.
Her mother may have images of what a daughter looks like.
Her father may hold his of what she must not, at any cost, resemble.
Her teachers may believe she found bad friends.
Her brothers had supplied them.
To all she says –
In mind if not in volume –
That she will not become,
A mannequin.
She will find her own way.
Her look.
Her path.
Her mirrors.
Enough already lost,
As childhood magic
Left,
And stripped
Her life austerer.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Mannequin in 85 words
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Sheltered
(Photo: Michal Ico on Unsplash)
She trudged up slopes in ice
And cold
The wind bent chilly fingers down
Her coat.
Till finally she saw
Up top
A cave indenting
Ancient rock.
She crawled in,
Grateful,
To take stock.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Cave in 34 words
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Farewell
(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.
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Glitter Bound
(Photo: Jackson David on Unsplash)
She spun around, with arms spread wide
The tinsel spooling
From her outstretched hands.
Spilling from her golden crown,
And all about her glowing gown,
It glittered and eventually
Bound,
Her body to the very ground
From whence her heart and soul
Made sound.
For the dVerse quadrille poetry challenge: tinsel in 44 words
Na'ama Yehuda 
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