Photo: Dvora Freedman
If all train seats are taken
And the ride is still long
Why not pull out a beach chair
You happen to bring along
And with paper at hand
Lounge like where you belong?
For Kammie’s Oddball Photo Challenge
Creative Seating
Muse and Flow
Bedtime for Luna
PHOTO PROMPT © Gah Learner
“So, remember,” her hand on the door’s handle. “Bedtime at 9, only one treat, brush your teeth.”
“And no opening the door for anyone,” he intoned.
At least it got him a smile. There weren’t many of them of late.
She tucked an errant lock of hair behind an ear and suddenly he couldn’t stand it.
“When will you be back?” He knew. He had to ask.
She glanced at the window. The court-order weighed heavy on her mind.
“When Luna goes to bed behind the mountain, I’ll be home.”
For the last time.
For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers
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Almost
Photo: Amitai Asif
Still they strive
Strain to grow
Stretch to touch
Yearning so.
Almost there
But not quite
Only five
Thousand years
Till they finally
Hold hands.
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Lime’a Dozen
Photo: Amitai Asif
Not much can
Match
A magenta batch
Like brilliant
Lime
For a dozen
A dime.
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Orchid Row
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
Orchids grow
Row by row
Rainbow florets
Aglow
Nature’s bounty
On show.
For Cee’s Flower of the Day Challenge
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Stories We Tell
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
And the stories that we tell
To small ones under
Good tales’ spell
Become the fabric
That unveils
The yarns they’ll spin
Or might dispel.
For the SYW-Revisited Challenge
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Trill Trio
Photo: Philip Coons
It was down
To the wire
To find glorious
A perch,
As the skies
Drew around them
A gray dome
As church.
For the One Word Sunday Challenge: Threesome
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Warp and Weft
Photo: Adi Rozen-Zvi
Shuttle flies
Right and left
In hands
Steady and deft
Every line
Adding heft
Beauty born
Warp and weft.
For the Sunday Stills Challenge: Work
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Pink Blessing
Photo: Adi Rozen-Zvi
Perched above
Hearts and eyes
Freshly woven
Phuang malai
Made in faith
By the Thai
For good fortune
In Chiang Mai.
For Pink September Squares Challenge
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As The Crow Flies
Mackinac Island; http://www.cityofmi.org/
“Thar she is,” the captain pointed.
She stared at the lighthouse across a desert of stacked ice shards and patches of wet cold.
“How far are we?”
The grizzled man lifted a hand against the horizon as if measuring. “Ah, ’bout a mile, as the crow flies.”
Might as well be ten thousand, she thought. Years, too.
He’d left the engines idling but refused to get her any closer. Would not lend her a kayak, either. “Too chocked up,” he’d said.
She reiterated her urgency but still he would not be swayed.
“She’d give up her ice soon,” he nodded at the lake. His attempt at kindness.
Soon would be too late. She swallowed bitterness. The estate was scheduled to be liquidated the next morning. Without photo proof of her early childhood scrawls in the lighthouse’s attic, she’d lose the inheritance. Illegitimate in a whole new way.
For What Pegman Saw
Na'ama Yehuda 
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