Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
Little arms
Little feet
Conquering sand
Waves to meet.
Breathing space
For a crawl
The expanse
Would not stall.
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: Crawl
Crawl Space
Shadows
Photo: Atara Katz
Their shadows walked ahead
Tasting paths
Testing light
Traveling a step
Before
Their feet
Pressed footprints
And memories
Into sand.
For the Lens-Artist Challenge: Shadows
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Frozen In Time
Photo: Ofir Asif
They stand frozen in time.
Carving long blunted by
Wind and the loss of names
No one is left
To own,
Decode,
Or understand.
They stand frozen in time.
The saplings reaching up
To the heavens
The only sign of what
Even death cannot
Disband.
For the Sunday Stills challenge: Frozen
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Nest Egg
Photo: silvervoyager
It was the view that caught his heart when they’d first visited Tortola. The twins had just turned ten. He’d gotten a miserable case of traveler’s diarrhea and spent two days cocooned inside Aunt Essie’s cottage while everyone else was at the beach. He’d initially felt sorry for himself, but then the quietude enveloped him, and he found himself cherishing the time away from chit-chatter and the demands of the children, love them though he did.
He’d recovered sufficiently by the third day, and the shore was fabulous. Still a piece of him remained on the cottage’s porch, gazing into the horizon, sipping bland tea, and feeling a calm he hadn’t known possible.
They’d visited several more times over the years and when Aunt Essie died, she left him the cottage to sell, “for a nest-egg.”
The boys were in college. Bernice had moved on. He decided to move in.
For What Pegman Saw: British Virgin Islands
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Rain Fed Red
Photo: Amitai Asif
In the depth
Of the winter,
Where so much
Appears dead,
Plan ahead.
For there are places
Where nature,
Finally rain fed,
Blooms into
Fields
Of red.
For the One Word Sunday Challenge: Red
For Cee’s FOTD
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Essentially
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
“Essentially, it should just be a matter of putting one foot in front of the other,” Dan noted, raising a mischievous bushy eyebrow and staring meaningfully at the assembled group of aspiring hikers. “Only that for some of us this might be an impossibility, seeing that … well …”
The participants laughed.
The six youngsters had barely five feet between them, let alone the assumed two per beating heart.
Dan had none.
“So,” the bearded guide waved a muscular arm over the skateboard that supported his legless torso. “We do something better.”
He pointed at each of the youngsters and their varied modes of conveyance. “We glide, we slide, we roll, we hop, we drive. We do whatever is necessary, and …” he chuckled, “because lunch will be served at the end of this path, we best get started or we’ll also end up doing it hungrily.”
For the SoCS challenge: ends with -ly
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Into The Horizon
Photo: S. Levenberg
There was a gap in the horizon and she was going to walk through it even if it meant a pass into another world. Even if it proved a portal to a completely different side of life.
There was a gap in the horizon and it beckoned her to come inside. To walk away from all she’d known and all she could no longer understand, and into what she didn’t know, but may arrive.
For the Weekend Writing Prompt: Horizon in 74 words
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The Balance
Photo: Sue Vincent
She did not understand where the castle had gone.
Tumbled walls
Like broken bones.
But the well was still there,
And the sword
Wrapped in stone,
Had waited stored
Well ensconced.
She took the hilt
Spelled the spell
And the blade pulled out
Clean
Glowing green,
Showing
All was still wrong
Just as all was still well.
She took a deep breath
And exhaled.
Because though
Times had changed
At least the balance
Remained.
For Sue’s Thursday WritePhoto Prompt: Blade
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Visibly Invisible
Photo: Amitai Asif
What do you see
When you look, but
Do not
Actually
See me?
Is it the shadow
Of what you believe
You ought to
See,
Or the reflected
Image
Of what you wish
You could
Be,
Or what you think
I must be
In order
To be visible
Enough
To be verified
As me?
For the d’Verse challenge
For the A Photo A Week Challenge: Depth of Field
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Unworthy
Photo: Robert Hickerson via Unsplash
They brought them in at dark, under the covers of secrecy and night.
Children, torn from loved ones, placed behind barbed wire, watched by burly guards.
“Your fault for coming,” they were told. “And now you’re too much work to reunite.”
For Three Line Tales
