Credit: Dreamstime.com
…Bows and trembles still,
But wind punishes, more likely to cut
Than caress and quicken the hopeful green of early months.
Pulsing chlorophyll sparking, breathing deep
The sinewy length of sultry Midsommer. Continue reading
For just Jot It January, a quick write to explore the Pied Piper and one who got left behind. From Kaye’s prompt “Seasonal” (Kaye @ https://kayespencer.com/blog-2/ ).There’s still time to join in on reading or sharing your own writing. Visit the comments section here for others’ responses to Seasonal.
***
He leaned his head back and felt the warm sun cut the chill on his face, and the chill of the stone bench he sat upon. He’d gone to the mountain just before sunrise, still hoping for entrance after so many, many years. It was his seasonal visit, for no one now could remember the exact day, only the time of year. They’d hurried to erase all records and smudge retellings, in shame of their greed and their short-sightedness. Continue reading
The challenge? Write a story in 6 sentences, no more & no less, and if you’d like, share your creation or just visit and comment on others’ ideas, with GirlieOnTheEdge, Denise. The prompt is “RANGE”, and here’s where you join the party: Six Sentence Stories
***
“So, how many do you think are out there, Pardner?” Clement called loudly, as hot winds swept the Martian landscape of the Arizon’ Range.
“It’s hard to tell from here,” she answered evenly, looking askance at the lariat he twirled lazily overhead, adding quietly, “But you’re surely not gonna catch any endangered Schmitties with that thing, as they’re round and hard as a bowling ball underneath all that fur.” Continue reading
Streams of consciousness come from all quarters,
Hurrying to create a sense of balance,
To find peace in some blessed gathering place.
Our origins are underground, but
We tumble down waterfalls,
Stretch and roll along shores both verdant and blasted,
Before resting in an ocean
That may need to cover the entire world before the end times. Continue reading
Honestly, she could sit here all day and watch the water, the gulls, and the waves wink their private jokes to one another, the sun heating her pale, white shoulders as she leaned over the steel railing that bordered the sharp drop to the river below. Continue reading
Drizzling rain and snow for three days straight had left Sonja aching and weary to her bones, trying to keep the household on an even keel, and her own sanity mostly intact. Continue reading
Tettegouche, N. MN (Source: Derek Montgomery for MPR)
His nails were dark and sharp, spreading before him as he stretched first one paw, then the other. He backed further under the Juniper hedge.
She should’ve stayed home, not taken the canoe across the water. Continue reading
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