Writelee is two birding today, and referring to a post made this morning on Quora.com. Writelee believes he can do this because he thinks any question regarding how the English Language is spelled is quaint. This is not a bad thing. But it is fun for peeps like Writelee who like twiddling conventions. Please see: … Continue reading Two Birding on a Monday Morning!
Late. Aspen leaves rustle shake glints of harvest moon— GeWongk of geese fades south. In response to the Ragtag Community WoD: panoply
What Neither of Us Wanted to Hear, but What I Knew Already
I followed the hearse in. And then, I drove around until I found him. He was feeding pigeons popcorn in the park across from the big stone church on North Second. He sat on a park bench in the sun with his back to the street, but I knew it was him. If you grow … Continue reading What Neither of Us Wanted to Hear, but What I Knew Already
They Begin the Descent into the Ufflands
“It’s the only way,” Evan said. He scanned the steep ice filled chutes and the long steep ridge. “Obviously. But where does it go?” Dorothy had a lot of things she had to be thinking of. Not the least of which was the seed she carried. “Seed of a new mankind,” the old shaman had … Continue reading They Begin the Descent into the Ufflands
A Holiday to Inner Harbor, Baltimore
An idle afternoon to finger lace with suburban longing and taste our unhungry way through a day, when she came upon us like salvation. Please sir please may I wash your windows Please sir I’m trying to feed my little girls I’ve got GlassClean. And we gazed over glinting water and the dance of sails— … Continue reading A Holiday to Inner Harbor, Baltimore
Hot wind, leaves rustle, flash green then silver with sun— Christmas tree lights! copious
Washing the Dog’s Blue Dish
Farely was gone. They had taken him to the vet. His tail thumped on the gurney. Then it stopped. The eyes glazed, and he was gone. Dianne was surprised to find herself thinking about it two days later. She had not particularly liked the grubby old dog—he was Doug’s. But she stood at the kitchen … Continue reading Washing the Dog’s Blue Dish
Feeding the Grubs at the Feed-the-Hungry Feast
This is a repost of yesterday's post. Writelee could not resist adding the word "grubby," which qualifies for the Ragtag word of the day. "Grubby" should have been put into the original. There are a few other edits. Writelee has a discomfort about this sketch and the whole series that began with "I Only go … Continue reading Feeding the Grubs at the Feed-the-Hungry Feast
The Child in Toe Shoes
She bends her bones to fling them high, a gawky graceful, nearly flawless dance, but the stodgy Envies snicker why slipper pinches will one day wince a cry against the hour she donned them just to dance, she bends her bones to fling them high. Spare no worry on the gargling sigh of those old … Continue reading The Child in Toe Shoes
Coffee
Ambrosia should have been this dark and bitter potion, not the liqueur of yeasty fruit, not the sparkly cloy that Greek admen teach us gods guzzle in mythy mope. A god's palate has such a pampered tongue— libated with honey of human woe and satiate with the pure chill of heart-brewed sorrow— it should wake … Continue reading Coffee
Home of Have, Poems by Lee Robison 