NaPoWriMo Day 31: Bonus

Holding On If only we could all be like the children  we once were before we were pushed into a harsh reality  by selfish adults.  Our laughter and openness  smothered by discipline,  verbal hands covering our mouths.  We gathered our moments gratefully — bits of starlight, deep woods quiet, wild violets and jonquils in Spring. We held them close, like talismans for the future. We held on until we didn’t have to. * Bonus prompt via The Wombwell Rainbow Art by Kerfe Roig So I missed the last two days of NaPoWriMo. I’m sad but it couldn’t be helped. I … Continue reading NaPoWriMo Day 31: Bonus

NaPoWriMo Day 24

Salt Cellar Knee socks and folded paper a playground at recess a circle, a caucus, a coven magic fingers and bated breath favorite numbers whispered, counted secret messages released in the air fly off to the future, wait for us a circle, a caucus, a coven * Prompt via The Wombwell Rainbow Art by Kerfe Roig – Kerfe’s image reminded me of the paper game, called Salt Cellar, we used to play in middle school. So, it’s finally happened to me – I’ve lost the option to write in Classic Editor. I suppose I’ll have to hunt down a Block … Continue reading NaPoWriMo Day 24

NaPoWriMo Day 22

Patience Fallow days find me watching Monty Don, his busy hands digging, pulling, planting – and dreams of zucchini (corgettes!),squash, and chili’s dance in my head. Every vegetable and flower that might grow in my hot, humid climate gets a notation in my notebook while I find myself thinking in British-eze. But in my life patience has been a hooded figure on a path far ahead, no matter how I try I can not walk in step with her. This is not good for an aspiring gardener. Daily, I check the bare dirt for first green shoots, then watch obsessively … Continue reading NaPoWriMo Day 22

NaPoWriMo Day 20

Everything is Temporary My grandmother had a blood red rose that twirled around a post on her front porch. There’s a picture of me standing next to it when my eyes were still fresh and she was in the kitchen cooking tiny butter beans just picked that morning by my grandfather’s hands. Thumbing through the old photo album I pause at that photo, remember how my dad dug up the rose before the old house was sold, replanted it in my parents’ backyard. A few pages later there it is, twirling over my parents’ porch, now only a picture in … Continue reading NaPoWriMo Day 20

NaPoWriMo Day 19

Cemetery Garden: A Cento In every room of my home, the candles had been pinched dark,(1) my mind spends much of its time reliving finished conversations. (2) I think perhaps an apple is the universe and your body is an orchard full of trees, (3) the bitter taste of half a life. What if you weren’t afraid? (4) Which shadow glittered, which shadow dimmed? I learned not to regret. (5) You strangle on the sweet air, leave little ghosts of scent behind you. You will lean to the earth alone. (6) ***** Sources: (Numbered after the line quoted) (1) Mary … Continue reading NaPoWriMo Day 19

NaPoWriMo Day 18

Simple Things Give Me Pause When the milk curdles in my coffee I make tea instead. It’s warm amber slips down my throat like mamma tucking in my sleeping body. Pink and blue china flowers fit perfectly in my palm, dance ring-around-the-rosy in my memory of forgotten voices heard only in dreams, blurry faces tied to paper and glue. For now, only cookies are missing in my reminiscent tableau. In my pantry flour, sugar, pecans wait in vain for absent hands. * Prompt via The Wombwell Rainbow Art by Kerfe Roig Continue reading NaPoWriMo Day 18

Napowrimo Day 17

When the moon hits your eye you grab my arm to hold me still, saying I Won’t let you go —- and I turn faster than a deer out-running a bullet, grab your shirt under your chin, thrust my face into yours, say Oh, yeah? Then moonlight fell on us like holy raiments and I don’t know how it’s possible but it happened, we electric like a thunderstorm turned human one minute then bathed in milky luminous lust the next, the anger draining down our bodies soaking floorboards leaving ghostly footprints of rising steam that dissipate in the moonlight as … Continue reading Napowrimo Day 17