I dropped the fork and blew the candles, blinded by the glow on my plate. It is a wedge of the moon sitting atop the slice of cake. “Where do you draw your light from on this dark New Moon night?” “I stole it from your dreams to drive you towards newer goals.” My daughter … Continue reading Wedge of the Moon
I smile at the mention of joyas I wipe an errant teardropoozing from the left eye I watch shadows in petal shapesfall on the whiteness of milkas it stands poised to boilspill over on the stovetop-the chimney abovesucks smoky fumeswith all negative thoughtsfrom an agitated mindhelps me unpack, unwind I revisit the bumpy roads,where the … Continue reading Sepia Stains
The countryside calls me back. I miss the music of the flowing river flirting with rocks, which spawns folklore about its origin and the blessings and curses it carries. I watch my shapely wife, wearing a red swimming costume, complete the 50 laps she does every day to meet her fitness goals. She is dedicated, but the stagnant pool … Continue reading Gaps
the courtyard looks morose todayseparated from the verandah by grillsenergy flow blockedby the end of camaraderieearly darkness of wintry nightspushing people into warm bedslacking what fired them-companionship moonlight shining on dreamssleeping on the terraceon together summer nightsa distant memoryfading into oblivionnew goals overtake lifechallenges aboundthe world is not always round W3 Prompt #132
freezing temperaturessoon to take controlof physical movement portable mindsetscarry us throughone season to another overtones vividin attire and gearinnate strengthsubdues discomfort Moonwashed Weekly Prompt - Writers' Choice
It's not the best way to live, for it will kill you with an inferiority complex. Look down and feel blessed. Then, set a goal and start moving. Photo Challenge #540
He has a presence despite his shabby appearance. Maybe we are drawn to his ferocious eyes, looking for a challenge. One feels compelled to keep a distance. The boundary lines are invisible but sharp. He surprises us with a mellow voice, “Can you help me in finding this address?” “Are you from the police?” “No.” … Continue reading Transit mode
a silent, soft touchon pages of memoryshadows of the pastthey become untearabletender ghosts impede progress Sunday Confessionals
Creative Experiments and More 