Category: loss
A Tribute To Every Veteran
white blanket, salty sand at the edges of a slice of life “forgotten war”pale face of a thousand lives long since moved on, in shadow breathwind blows adagio maiden grass wildly, on windy edge, prayers for long lifebright yellow cotton trees and willows call to the white ripples of confettilong ponderous arms of cerulean firmaments,…
“Wild flowers cut for two” now live on spillwords press nyc
flowers lift every blossom hightoward sunday’s somber skyexquisite hat, emits long sigh young’uns loud, dirty pantscardboard fans begin to dancechoir holds ceremonial stance tears spin, I sow a song, best I canwelcomes arise by awkward manmemories shift like mourning sand listen to preacher, job he’s doing, badhe never even knew my dadflowers jump off…
loss of my highlander
Word prompt by https://twitter.com/PR_Rybeck
“Leaving the big four” live on masticadoresindia
Leaving the Big Four During the third year of school and living on the big four, I was divided into pieces by a swift sword, perching on my safety edge. My brown eyes must have turned black as I heard mom’s words, but I was sure I was suffocating. “Joy, honey, we are moving to…
My new Piece “Fairy Feast” live on Masticadoresindia
vanish intosultry eyelessair, baffling fogsenses dimlypale as lovesealing heartsalike elegantevening primrosemy dainty fingerselongate, growsensors fondlingtree swingholding yourlast laughstars cry gildedtears leavingtrails of wispylight floating I hope you will read the rest of this piece on MasticadoresIndia ( now called ChewersMasticadores ), and please, if you like it, consider following and subscribing to this magazine full…
To All My Readers, you are my family
My big window parading all my friends so close by, yet no one tattled or told me today was the day they would die. Yesterday, the sun was a bit worn-out, and some rain cried while wetting the earth, but still, I saw the new Creeping Jenny’s annual birth. My eyes don’t work well…
My New Prose “slumbering Savannah” Now On Masticadoresindia
The swamp claws its way through the mud. Water moccasin waking late in the winter’s artful sun. Hiding in the putrid belly of the forsaken shade of the brown-haired trees, he lay gazing. He sees in black and white. Stalking prey with a proud skinny neck and blockish head, he hunts. Choctaw child, feet raw…
she stares – an ameri-ku
Flat black hat resting as it framesthis exquisite yet somber and mournful face, her elongated legs and armsstretching, as if an iron highway to nowhere lingering in a world of deathher other half, a year ago, took his last breath This beautiful sculpture was created by Louise McDowell. It is cast bronze completed in 1996…