dogtrax

Big, bright, beautiful; Your soft illumination tells us a story

Go up into the gaps. If you can find them; they shift and vanish too. Stalk the gaps. Squeak into a gap in the soil, turn, and unlock-more than a maple- a universe. This is how you spend this afternoon, and tomorrow morning, and tomorrow afternoon. Spend the afternoon. You can’t take it with you. ― Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

Gap

there, beneath where you once removed the river rock, and tossed it to the trees, an outline remains, a pocket for rains

smooth sands by gravity's fingers; and in your mind, the rock's still there; it's the gap that disappears

for #ds106

Pack the bag with ink, pens, a composition book, and plenty of poems

Deadwood - the roughened skin of an old birch quietly crumbling between our fingers, like rust, becoming dust; Disintegration

inspired by Wendy's poem https://wentalearn.blogspot.com/2024/12/peeling-life-of-bark.html

Sweetness on the lips as we sink our teeth into August summer corn

for when the sun sets we wander always under the guise of mystery

It's nature's patterns in spirals; Fibonacci numbers, deep inside

The air, cold and crisp, belies an August's presence; Autumn elbows in

for Algot

Ink drips in forests - red shimmering among green - each leaf, soon transformed

Branches of ripe pears weighed down by ample sweetness; perfect for plucking