Tag: prose

We Get to Choose

Yep, felt a bit spunky when I wrote this. But don’t we all know people who, through our eyes, their kindness fades or we see something in their character that we can no longer tolerate? We get to choose our friends, our partners. If… Continue Reading “We Get to Choose”

How Could I Know? #writephoto

If you stay on one side and I the other how will I know the color of your eyes what tune your voice plays when your words lilt into the air? How will I know if humor is one of your senses or if the… Continue Reading “How Could I Know? #writephoto”

When I Grow Up …

  She believed there were only pros to fusing things together the bricks to build her house the quilts to keep her grandchildren warm the neighbors at the parties she threw She was a pro at fusing things. Nothing came apart. Nothing tore. Nothing… Continue Reading “When I Grow Up …”

The Hidden to Light

Entertain me with your laughter not your bravado dance for me a jig and smile when I join you Extend your hand and walk me across the water into a field of wild flowers Run without thought to catch my hat from the breeze… Continue Reading “The Hidden to Light”

Still the Waters Calm

Still the waters calm  but not stagnant Static waters poison change. Shift, transform embrace the growth. Barren souls lack knowledge, awareness. Still the waters calm but move float drift evolve enlighten.   photo credit via Static

I Am Not Your Sculpture

Please do not carve me into a person of your liking or carve me into something I’m not. Instead, carve me some bread and cheese and I’ll sit down with you in a moment of sharing. Then, we will discover if we can be… Continue Reading “I Am Not Your Sculpture”

Dancing Away Sorrow

My legs move fast my feet still remember Mama ran away. The Charleston ends my feet, still I plunk a new recording on Victor Victrola plant the needle in the grove turn the crank. My feet move again green and yellow squares of rug… Continue Reading “Dancing Away Sorrow”

Two crackers shy of a box

She’s here. Now. No need to check on me. Go home, Miss Helen, moonshine maker.   Miss Helen two crackers shy of a box hair colored orange (she thinks is red) pokes out on the ends like soggy cactus needles unless she’s driving Roadster… Continue Reading “Two crackers shy of a box”

The Way of Things

I remember this, my last conversation with Papa. He, trying to alleviate our pain. But I heard, through his bravado the saddened beat of my heart submerged in deep water no knowledge of how to stay afloat grief no words could express He said,… Continue Reading “The Way of Things”

So, you’ve made a mistake. Now what?

Do you wrap your shoulders in guilt? Does it make you feel better? Of course not. You did what you did, but the moment has passed. Perhaps it is regret that you are feeling. Regret is better. It means you have taken that nugget,… Continue Reading “So, you’ve made a mistake. Now what?”