Poetry

3 days

three days was all it took
quick and sudden it was
a swift soft release

previously hidden, now exposed
still waters sitting
crashing to a halt

explain it away
this way of explanation
it was fine, now it’s not

unsettled, unsure,
this beautiful buoyant raft
rattles the calm

looking up the darkness shines
bright and beyond, waiting
rushing tomorrow comes at dawn

Saturday Mix. Opposing Forces

author’s notes: it’s been awhile since writing. starting again.

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Poetry, with real toads

born wet

splashing and leaping
the world briefly unlocked

always and forever
sitting by the shore

sipping ocean water
sipping river water

collecting shells and
driftwood for later

small boat sailing
strolling to shore

warm fire burning
never looking back

over at imaginary garden with real toads
courtesy of kim weekend mini challenge: boats

note to poet.. just found a new site… love poetry and frogs… i love boats, everything about them… from here to there… lotsa fun to visit the dream boat

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Poetry

seashore journey

sunday scribblings: shipwrecked
three word wednesday: adapt, lie, glide

a sudden departure
started with a splash
knew it was a shipwreck
immediately immersed
wet water tread
sweet savoring surrender
crashing dryland pileup

new years eve fireworks
laughter’s luminous light
trailing trials of trouble
stars swaying sorrow
two feet feeling squishy
soaked summer sandals

unbuckled and brave
diving during darkness
two big eyes examine
hunchback harmony
in a placating plunge
flapping tall tail touch

always eternally open
comes a two oar rowing rescue
i am a walker willing to adapt
plunging possessions fall
and the big lie loosens
begins a glistening glide
to a far far away

those unlikeable emotions
hostile to water preferring the dry
in a downpour they disappear
lighter the load landfall appears
silent the air parts letting me go

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3WW, haiku my heart, Poetry, short story

release

Female Reed Buntingthomg’s three word wednesday: blink, occasion, kind
rebecca’s friday’s recuerda mi corazon [haiku my heart]
photo: female reed bunting, Ian A Kirk, flickr

possessing a bag of seeds was a kind weight. never felt heavy or burdensome. the notion of planting the empty field across the way was going to be an auspicious occasion. only now the soil rested in a deep surrounding silence.

washing the last of the dishes the open window carelessly captivates with possession. stretching she touches the great wind. and with willowy wings hovering over the vanished, she gazes at the gathering of seeds once scattered, revealing a buried task that took a time lasting long.

and now in the blink of an eye the end began. before her written in fine flare the notice had materialized. with wet hands she reaches and touches the great wind.

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3WW, magpie tales, short story

plainly speaking

three word wednesday: judge, nightfall, safety
photo: magpie tales no 44

…there was nothing between us. playing cards for years we both read and judged our plays beyond the snapping sound of brain transmissions. we’d start by sharing a casual drink in the safety of comfort and find an anchor sledding about in the candlelight of nightfall. too soon caught, the quiet mist comes. we first heard the loud hush hiding about in the fluid corners of fire light. a signal our journey would begin.

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