theDriftOfWater

stirring slow awake
two feet walking
the sound of drifting waters

coming to shore in a
western wind break
my heart beats at the sound

immersion is best
my senses sing
there is no other

returning to land
the slow erase of wet
longing to return

the sky is shedding feathers page three

what’s the weather like? white snow falling
everyday journal. day 3, page 3 [i think]
photo: magpie tales prompt no 46

sleepy eyed i peer through an early dawn window watching countless white flakes come crashing down, falling to the ground in a stark thud of lightness where no one can hear. amazing how such a roar could be so silent. the snow captures the imagination as to where and how this energy comes and goes, falling, falling…. perhaps i shall return to the warmth of blankets and recapture a dream i can no longer remember.

the picture tells the story. always leaving my gloves behind. how many pairs i’ve paid for and lost, countless.[ i like that word countless so used it again.] not caring enough to go back and retrieve. the brown leather gloves fit perfectly and kept my hands warm. someone else will enjoy them now. i can already see myself going to buy another pair.

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.