Carrots. Original public domain image from Wikimedia Commons
“I’d rather be swinging on a star than crouched over this bowl of stale pretzels,” Thomas moaned into his lowball. Continue reading
Lonely Heart
heart
Clock’s Ticking
Her voice went on and on, whining and cackling and blaming. Peter knew she spoke out of deep unhappiness, a defensive sense of irrelevance to the rest of the world. She deserved some compassion. Continue reading
RIP Twin Cities
This gentle giant
Ended by corrupt police
Remember George Floyd.
Hope strained, smoke-stained streets
Shattered hearts, Minnesota
Patience, as we heal.
(This, on top of COVID. And those who gather together–prayers broken by opportunistic anarchists–risk a steeper next wave in the coming weeks.)
© Liz Husebye Hartmann (2020)
Cora’s Fireweed
September’s last rays paled as velvet breezes whispered of long nights to come. Cora nestled deeper into a warm hollow at cliff’s edge, ignoring the salt sway of the fjord below.
Valley of the Trolls 