
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
Small and humble,
It fills bellies,
When there’s no
Choice of grain.
The green leaves,
The tiny fruit,
Pantry for
Times of pain.
For the Sunday Still’s challenge: #Close and #Green

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
Small and humble,
It fills bellies,
When there’s no
Choice of grain.
The green leaves,
The tiny fruit,
Pantry for
Times of pain.
For the Sunday Still’s challenge: #Close and #Green

Photo: Martin Adams on Unsplash
She’d appear out of her bed
As if in dream.
An apparition in their kitchen.
A small figure levitating up the stairs
From the nursery,
A flannel nightgown sweeping over the cold floor
And her bare feet.
They might’ve wondered
Why she had become
A somnambulist,
Had they not needed to keep
Any odd thing
Completely clandestine.
So they latched the front door
High,
And kept the very secret
Of her night-walking
Under the covers
Of unspoken sleep.
For the Weekend Writing Prompt: Somnambulist in 78 words

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
In the big scale
Of things
Where watershed moments
Froth and fall in
Flush forward,
Each of us but a dot
Drenched in mist
Hoping life
Flows without
A fast-forward.
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Scale

Photo: Mads Schmidt Rasmussen on Unsplash
She was always one to cause
Quite a bit of stir
In every entrance,
In the very way the air around
Her every move
Would shift
To agitated waiting,
For something breathless
That was not easily worded
Yet nonetheless remained
Indelibly perceived as
Inescapable.
For the dVerse quadrille poetry challenge: stir

Photo: Burst on Unsplash
She figures it would be okay.
She figures it would do.
She’ll find her schedule and get back,
Within a month or two.
She figures she could do the task.
She figures it is fine.
She’d done a thing like that before,
Not quite, but in outline.
Still, she figures it a breeze.
She figures she’d succeed.
Even when history, at best,
Is wondering if indeed.
She figures this, she figures that
In neutral all her wheels,
And it becomes impossible
To not begin to feel,
That maybe it’d be easier
To let them bushes be
They’re beat from hedging here and there
And wishing they could flee!
Note: This was really just for fun and isn’t about (ahem) anyone … So similarity to any individual is (sort of) coincidental … 😉 Dedicated to all the ‘he’ and ‘she’ and ‘you’ and ‘they,’ who won’t say yea and won’t say nay, and leave us all in limbo every day …
For Linda Hill’s SoCS challenge: figure

Photo: Inbar Asif
There’s a hole in that kettle …
I don’t care, don’t throw it.
There’s a hole it that kettle —
This junk won’t make tea.
I don’t care if it’s holey
That pretty, red kettle,
I don’t care if it’s holey
It’s perfect for me! …
(Yeah, if you noted a bit of reverberation, this is very loosely based on “There’s a hole in the bucket” children’s folk song … ;))
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Junk

Photo: Nicolas Lobos on Unsplash
They donned the new suits
Of exploration
White and fluid for
The deep cold of space
And the vast darkness
Of the Universe.
They filed into the
Craft readied to blast
Toward a red Mars
Carrying hope for
Yet another home
In which to draw breath.
For the dVerse Haibun poetry challenge: Mars

Photo: Amitai Asif
As her eyes finally
Closed
And her breath
Not returned,
She knew
What awaited her
Just
‘Round the bend:
A new journey
Ascends
Life beyond
Epoch’s end.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Epoch in 27 words
Note: Dedicated to all who face the final journey … and thus to all … for we all would. May we walk life’s path the way we can and should.

Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
They looked outside the window into
Yards and yards of yard,
And knew this house will be one where
All play will thrive unmarred.
The world that spread
For miles ahead
A guard for
Childhood’s boulevard.
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Yard

Photo: Morgan Petroski on Unsplash
She peeled away the stale layers
Of sorrow,
The sheets that wrapped around the core
Of what had once held
Grins.
And underneath the soot of tears
And grit
And grief
She found the gold that had been
Hidden
Soft against reality’s biting teeth.
For the dVerse quadrille challenge: Peel
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