
Photo: Amitai Asif
We can disagree
Without being disagreeable.

Photo: Inbar Asif
Decades shut
Behind closed shores
What old stories
Had you told
Of not so distant
Wars?
Weathered by
Time and lore
What future resides
Behind Cuba’s
Sealed doors?
For the Weekly Photo Challenge: Door closes

Photo: Inbar Asif
When disparaging fails
Tests of fact
Tests of time,
It unveils petulance
As little more than
A whine.
So beware of repeating
Lies that weigh down
Truth’s vine,
For they lead not
To good spirits
But to crossing red lines.
For City Sonnet October Photo a Day Challenge
And for Festival Of Leaves 2018 challenge
(Based on true events* – Trigger Warning for possible distress)

Photo by Tirachard Kumtanom on Pexels.com
Susan is about to leave her daughter’s bedroom after bringing in a load of clean laundry when Chrissie speaks. Her voice trembles.
“Mom, can I tell you something important?”
Susan turns. Chrissie has been quieter than usual. She resisted going to basketball practice and tried to stay home from school. “Sure, Chrissie. You know you can tell me anything.”
“Coach Kevin hurt me.”
Susan frowns in confusion. “Hurt you how?”
“He cornered me in the locker room and he pushed me onto the ground and he tried to get my clothes off and I told him no but he didn’t listen and when I tried to scream he put his hand over my mouth and nose and I couldn’t breathe and I thought I was going to die.” The words tumble out and Chrissie begins to sob.
Her mother remains standing as if rooted to the floor. “When?”
“Last week.”
“Last week?!” Susan crosses her arms over her chest. “How come you didn’t say something right away?”
“I was scared. I was confused. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to think about it. I…I didn’t want it to be true.”
“Did you call the police?”
“No.”
“Did you tell the principal?”
“No.”
“Did you tell anyone?”
“I told my friend, Hannah, yesterday.” Chrissie’s voice shakes. “She told me to tell you.”
“You didn’t even tell your best friend right away?!” Susan raises an eyebrow.
“No.”
“Well,” Susan shakes her head, “so maybe it didn’t happen.”
Chrissie wraps her blanket tightly around herself. “It did happen! I’m telling you it did!”
“Coach Kevin is a nice man. Are you sure it was him?”
“Mom! I know him. His face was two inches from mine. Of course I’m sure it was him!”
“I don’t know. I’ve seen Coach Kevin many times and he never tried to do this to me. I never heard anyone say anything like this about him. Also, he goes to church.” Susan pulls her phone out of her pocket. She swipes her finger over the small screen. “Kevin? Susan. Got a minute?” She walks out of the room and returns a couple of minutes later. “Well, Chrissie, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I just talked to Coach Kevin and he says he didn’t do anything of the sort. Are you trying to destroy him? It is nasty to make things up this way.”
Chrissie sobs. “I’m not making it up, Mom. It really happened. It is why I didn’t want to go to school. I didn’t want … to see him and he does the carpool …”
Susan eyes linger on her daughter. “Well, maybe something happened, but I don’t believe it was him.”
“It was him! I’m telling you it was him.”
Susan narrows her eyes. “How can you be sure it was him?”
“I am a 100% sure. I saw him like I’m seeing you.”
“Hmm. I think you’re wrong.”
Chrissie pulls the covers over her head. The blankets shake.
“No need for hysterics. As you can see, I am believing you that something happened. I just don’t think it was him. Actually, I think you should apologize to Coach Kevin for saying he did this to you. He says he didn’t do it and I believe him.”
Chrissie freezes. She turns slowly toward her mother. “Apologize to him?! Mom, he’s lying!”
“I don’t know. You have proof it was him?”
Chrissie starts to shake her head but then sits up. She looks up at her mother. “Maybe. There are cameras in the hallway by the locker rooms. Can we ask the school to get the cameras from outside the locker room? They’ll show him going into the girls’ locker room when I was there by myself. They’ll show me leaving in tears and him leaving after me.”
Chrissie’s mother rolls her eyes. “That’s not necessary. He said he didn’t do it. That’s all I need to know.”
Chrissie stares incredulously before turning away from her mother and facing the wall.
Susan shrugs. “Well, that settles it. I’ll tell Kevin you are sorry. He’s up for promotion, you know. Head coach. There’s a party at his place on Sunday. We’ll stop by. You should write a card. The one silver lining that can come out of this is that if someone assaults you, you now know you can come and tell me about it.”
§ § §
*a link to a ‘one silver lining‘ statement that ‘inspired’ this piece.

Photo: Atara Katz
Underneath the soft plumage
And pretty colors
Afield,
Resides a strength to protect
From those who violence
Wield.
Underneath the pink top
The hat of power
Revealed,
Live truths of how both
Softness and thorns
Are required
To be healed.
For the Sunday Stills Challenge: Make mine pink

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
Take heart
Even when reality
Would bleed it dry
With injustice
And stale pride.
Be heartened
By the strength
Of those who wait out
The belligerent
And will not see
Truth and decency
Denied.
For Cee’s Black & White Photo challenge

Photo: Inge Vandormael
So she stands in the harbor
Greeting weary souls’ sails.
Her eyes had welcomed
The many
Who fled war, harm, travail.
She faced cannons
Of hardship,
Wept as terror sought
To prevail.
She marks the better
We can be,
The stories nations
Can be proud
To tell.
Through many storms
In the harbor,
She lights the way
In the gale.
As hate now amplifies sorrow
Seeking to see her bounty
Curtailed,
She hopes her pledge ‘cross the ages
Won’t become one made
To no avail.
For the Tuesday Photo Challenge: our world

Photo: Inbar Asif
As we hold endless heartache
Of scandal, war, crime, abuse
May we also remember
Gentler waves, kinder views;
So the holes rent by hardship
Will not make us refuse
To let pain become a window
To the good we can profuse.
For the Pink September Squares
The link below is to an article by Dawn Haney (thank you, Jenny, for sending it to me). It is very well done and immensely relevant.
Take a moment to read it, and perhaps a few more to allow your realities and reactions to have the room they require and deserve. If you are so inclined, leave a comment below and share your thoughts about the article, of the things you’ve found to be helpful, and the realities of balancing activism with self-care.
In these times of rampant overwhelm and maddening injustice — especially if you carry your own wounds and trauma history — may you find the support you need, the awareness you seek, and the way to provide aid to the vulnerable in the pace and manner you can manage.
And may we all, indeed, be the adults kids need.
From the article. Photo by Brooke Anderson.

So the meetings that were called a lie
Had in fact taken place on the sly
And collusion repeatedly denied
Is now admitted as if justified
While a letter obviously dictated
Proves a propaganda calculated.
No question remains
For anyone who has brains
That those who yell out “Fake-news”
Are the ones who perjure and ruse
Just as they who the fact-finders accuse
Are the ones to truth molest and abuse.
This post continues the blogging challenge in which Merriam-Webster’s Word of the Day, serves as inspiration a-la the “Daily Prompt.”
Want to join me? Feel free to link to this post on your blog, and/or post a link to your blogpost in the comment section below so others can enjoy it, too. Poetry, photography, short stories, anecdotes: Go for it!
For more visibility, tag your post with #WordOfDayNY, so your post can be searchable.
“Follow” me if you want to receive future prompts, or just pop in when you’re looking for inspiration. Here’s to the fun of writing and our ever-evolving blogging community!
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