Golden Goal

Temple Glory AdiRozenZvi

Photo: Adi Rozen-Zvi

 

In temples

Festooned

Not for one day

But all,

Glory shines

Festive gold

For good luck

To prolong.

 

 

For Photo for the Week Challenge: Festive

 

Perfect View

aerial photography of tree surrounded with fogs

Photo: Markus Spiske on Pexels.com

 

“There!” Angelo pointed.

“There what?” Payton panted

“There if you bother to lift your head.”

Payton scowled but was more occupied with getting oxygen into his lungs than wasting it on responses. He was sure that Angelo-The-Braggadocio had set the punishing pace deliberately to get him gasping. Not everyone climbed mountains for recreation!

The stitch in his side finally subsided enough to allow him to remove his fists from his thighs and straighten to take in the “amazing vista” Angelo had promised.

Dense fog. Vague tree tops. Milky air.

“There goes nothing,” Payton grouched.

Angelo chuckled and the saturated air softened the sound into something almost vulnerable.

Payton glanced at his friend. Glanced again. Was the wet on Angelo’s cheeks mist or liquid feelings?

“It is the perfect view,” Angelo murmured, his oft guarded face as open as a child’s. “To be inside Big Sky is to revisit Heaven.”

 

 

For What Pegman Saw: Big Sky Montana

 

 

It is Time

It is time Na'amaYehuda (2)

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

It is time to make time

For the truth

Of what happened.

It is time to make space

For what some wished

Not be known.

It is time to take heed

Of the lengths went

To smother

The misdeeds and bad choices

So the fake

Will take hold.

It is time to revisit

Civic duty and justice

And refuse to permit

Free reign for hate,

Greed and lies.

It is time to return

To the truth.

For in fact it has long been

Well way past

The time.

 

 

 

For December Squares: Time

 

Late Dance

dance OsnatHalperinBarlev

Photo: Rega’im Menatzhim

 

Things were winding down. Most tables had been cleared and many guests had left for home. Only the hardiest (or closest kin) still remained. Sated and a bit deflated with fatigue, they lounged, gossiped, tapped phones, and not-so-surreptitiously checked the time. Several small children slept on makeshift cots of pulled together chairs.

Music still played but with more inertia than conviction.

The celebration was officially over, though not for everyone: two boys, oblivious to the late hour and overall exhaustion, danced on.

 

 

For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Celebration (82 words)

 

New Wings

tltweek149

Photo: Boris Smokrovic via Unsplash

 

She clung to the flower and whispered, awe shuddering through with each beat:

“I didn’t even know to imagine how it would feel to stretch wings,

to sense the blood pumping through to the tips, edges fluttering free with the wind.”

 

For Three Line Tales #149

 

Trestle Wrestle

rr-tracks-at-harpers-ferryc - Dawn M. Miller

Photo Prompt: Dawn M. Miller

 

“Stop it!”

Harry’s voice ricocheted off the cliffs. He could feel reverberations from his running traveling through the wooden trestles underneath his feet. Other thuds shook the bridge as well.

The figures didn’t even pause. Gordon swiped a leg under Thomas and the larger man went to the rails but grabbed hold of Gordon’s clothing. They rolled and the men would’ve tumbled off the tracks if it weren’t for Gordon’s belt catching on a spike.

Harry bent mid-stride to grab a stout stick.

It seemed he’d have to knock the two unconscious to stop them from killing each other.

 

 

For Rochelle’s Friday Fictioneers

 

A Child’s Cheer

hanukkah Chagit MoriahGibor

Photo: Chagit Moriah-Gibor

 

As chilly nights

Churn cold winds

And unclothed trees

Hold branches

In a yearn

To huddle near,

Cherish the fleeting

Flowing moments

Of memory’s chalices

Filling with cheer,

As a child

Chants a prayer

And gently lights

History’s challenge

To despair

Lack

And fear.

 

 

 

For the dVerse Quadrille Monday challenge: Cheer

 

One More Swim

breakwater2 NaamaYehuda

Photo: Na’ama Yehuda

 

“Time to go.” Ari shook the ground-cloth.

“One more swim to the breakwater and back!” Deni pleaded.

Ari eyed the sky, the flagpole buckling in the wind, the jellyfish tumbling in the surf. “Another time,” he turned to fold their sun-umbrella.

Behind him he heard Deni’s running steps. He reached for the vinegar. That girl never did listen.

 

 

For Sammi’s weekend writing prompt: Breakwater in 58 words

 

 

The Chief’s Command

Ethiopia OfirAsif12

Photo: Ofir Asif

 

“They are not welcome here,” the Chief decreed.

His eyes regarded the troop that was his to protect. The land was plentiful, but his soul recalled the stories of Times of Famine, when many had been reduced to skin and bone and many more had died. Legend had it that The Others had brought it on, had taken more than was their share, and angered rain from falling, seeds from growing.

He sensed Bannu’s discontent. Chiefs didn’t have to grant permission for anyone’s opinion. Life showed him, however, that good Chiefs balanced silencing with persuading.

“Bannu?” he grunted.

“What if they return with more of their kind?” The youngster’s sparse ruff bristled apprehension.

The Chief nodded. Foresight was rare. The youth had potential. It also made him someone to watch out for.

“If they challenge us,” the Chief bared teeth and growled an answer and a warning. “We fight.”

 

 

For What Pegman saw: Ethiopia

 

I Will Leave The Light On

LandOfGods20 InbarAsif

Photo: Inbar Asif

 

I will leave the light on

For you and those still lost.

I will leave the light on

For nights when stars hide most.

I will leave the light on

Even if some say I’m wrong.

I will leave the light on

So you know that you belong.

I will leave the light on

During storms and gale and snow.

I will leave the light on

Just so you see and know.

 

 

For Six Word Saturday