Almost Viable

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(Photo: Gabriel Jimenez on Unsplash)

 

She was almost there.

The core of her was almost

But perhaps not quite. Viable.

It took so much of her. To form. To build.

To be.

To sift the valued from the wreckage.

The meaning

From the hurt.

That there was little left.

Yet.

For viability.

Nonetheless it was still in there.

Nascent. Waiting.

For the rain.

For the sunlight.

For the nourishment.

For what had already sprouted and was on its way

To the life

She was.

And could

Sustain.

 

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Viable in 82 words.

 

Road Ready Monologue

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(Photo: SOCMIA Fotografía on Unsplash)

 

Get the kids. Get the bags. Pack the boot. Start the car.

And save that look for your Mother,

For having her jamborees so far.

Did you pee? Did you wash?

Are you sure the doors are locked?

Where’s your brother? Why right now?

Where does he think we’ll squeeze in his guitar?

No, you won’t.

Not you, too.

Don’t care if the harmonica will be something to do.

Off we go.

Off we are.

Right into bumper-to-bumper trucks.

We’ll never make it.

Best turn back.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Jamboree in 86 words

 

Annum

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(Photo: Jill Sauve on Unsplash)

 

They named her Annum.

For being born just as the year turned time onto its head

To start anew.

Just as the numbers tumbled from the duos to the singles

To the very first

Of firsts.

A new beginning.

Just as she was,

Finally,

For them.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Year in 46 words

 

Restashed

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She packed her bag and stashed

Her dreams into the

Locket

That held them

In the past.

She shut the door

And sighed.

She must

Return to what she’d left

Behind.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Return in 31 words

 

Not His Kind

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(Photo: Daniel Diesenreither on Unsplash)

 

When he first saw her, he thought, no way!

After all, he preferred the quiet kind who’d let him listen to the crackle, to the silence, to the breathing of the cabin’s logs.

He thought her flippant. Voluble.

Disrespectful of tranquility. Wasting words.

But she’d been sent, and his household needed a woman.

So he endured.

Till he heard her soothe a monologue of comfort into his orphan’s ear.

And his heart turned dear.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of Flippant in 74 words.

 

 

Turned Out Well

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(Photo: Emilie Dwire on Unsplash)

 

She was never big on plans.

It drove her parents mad, but her impromptu projects did turn out well more times than they did bad.

So they said nothing when she began digging a hole in the backyard.

And weren’t sad

When gold was found

Amidst the sand.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Impromptu in 48 words

 

 

Spring Unfolds

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(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.

 

Herself

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(Photo: Lorenzo Fattò Offidani on Unsplash)

 

They told her to not

Make waves.

That to speak out is

Provocative

And that it is

Unladylike.

Unseemly.

And goes against the word of

God

As interpreted by

Themselves

Who see it as their duty

To

Control

Her.

They told her to be meek.

To atone

For the sins

Of

Eve.

She stood.

Unfurled.

Provocative.

As the Goddess made her.

Herself.

 

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Provocative in 62 words

 

A Matter of Faith

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(Photo: Bernard Hermant on Unsplash)

 

It mattered not how many times he’d pressed the issue, urged she ‘see the light.’

She would not deny her own reality for his. She could not worship his Gods. His requirement of absolute adherence to ideas over facts. Over reason. Over voice.

“It’s not about facts,” he insisted, annoyed by her refusal to acquiesce. “It’s about compliance. The lesson of faith.”

“That kind of faith isn’t in my lexicon,” she said.

“Then pray on it till it is,” he turned, locked the door, left.

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Lexicon in 85 words

 

Singing Dandelions

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(Photo by Elijah Hiett on Unsplash)

 

The world was full of golden fuzz.

The sun shone on the meadow.

She let herself soar, up and up.

Her voice free to glide on from high to mellow.

 

“What is that god-awful noise?”

Aunt Edna woke, her voice a sonorous bellow.

“A yodel,” the child said.

“A bird in my throat sings the dandelions yellow.”

 

 

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt of: Yodel in 57 words