Today's to-do list— But the wild mustard, so yellow, This sunny chair, warm.
Tag: life
All Abide
Droop of August grass ants’ pheromone rush— cricket chirp In response to the Ragtag Community Daily Prompt: Abide
The Sandbox of Old High School Memories
“Remember Di Whilsawl?” Brent said. “You mean that hottie who was here Junior year?” Ferdie perked up. “Yeah, I think Junior.” “ooohweee,” Ferdie said, “when she walked, she WALKED.” He swung his shoulders. “Oh, sweet Jesus,” Gail said. “There isn’t anything either of you could say about her except she had tits and a can … Continue reading The Sandbox of Old High School Memories
On the Trail to Hidden Lake from Logan Pass Visitor’s Center
Under an empty sky and blank rock, a thousand little fragments trudge along a plank path to appreciate what is hidden. Are there billy goat trolls hidden under this bridge to beyond? Something always is hidden beneath or beyond belief. Under the hollow path is nothing but shadow and the clomp of a thousand fragments … Continue reading On the Trail to Hidden Lake from Logan Pass Visitor’s Center
Maria Joseph and the Hills Like. . . .
Del Darlson leaned on his shovel and watched the muddied water burble across the dry alfalfa field. What it murmured he could not say, but he heard the unmistakable laughter of a certain young woman. Above him the clouds unraveled and reraveled the shape of her face, her long slender arms, an angle of her … Continue reading Maria Joseph and the Hills Like. . . .
After Forty-Five Groovin’ Years Ferni Diswalter Heads for San Francisco
The song of Ferni Diswalter’s life was like a vinyl 78 rpm record with a scratch across it. It went round and round on the turntable and kept playing the same small snatch of song over and over again. As you might expect, the snatch of lyric for Ferni’s life was from the hippie song … Continue reading After Forty-Five Groovin’ Years Ferni Diswalter Heads for San Francisco
Even In Darkness
The link below resurrects the writelee.com post most appreciated by the readers. Even In Darkness
Waiting for Fireworks at Antietam National Battlefield
The orchestra begins “O, say can you see,” and in the dusk those boys rise again from the tree line and form in rows sung into them with “Mine eyes have seen the glory.” Ranks waver and writhe like banners over rise and hollow. And boys begin to fall. Gaps appear and close, a fatal … Continue reading Waiting for Fireworks at Antietam National Battlefield
Cora Doesn’t Find What She was Looking For
When Cora Greenfline turned away under that heavy sun, she turned away forever. What she turned away from was what she had not found, and what it told her of what she thought she was looking for. As it turned out all there had been were two gaudily painted toy-like engines facing each other, as … Continue reading Cora Doesn’t Find What She was Looking For
Ruthless Is the Gardener
Today my chore— the damned invader weeds! But o, mustard's yellow?! I know it's a stretch, but think of it this way: a gardener deciding not to pull the yellow mustard sets a precedent. A lovely one but one that could be unpopular?
Home of Have, Poems by Lee Robison 