Night symphony in the garage - the doors open to an impromptu opera of crickets
for #mastoprompt
A place to gather words before they get lost.
Night symphony in the garage - the doors open to an impromptu opera of crickets
for #mastoprompt
In Autumn's wind swirls, bare trees brace for the winter, with coats of dead leaves
for Algot
The steepest arc a protective bubble it morphed into a double bow
A potent reminder a surprise you cannot unknot a joyous Mobius bow
Beneath the leaves - Before the snow - Beyond our sight -
Invisible nutrients reset as the soil restores itself in another dormant season
another reason to rejoice the harvest yet to come
for #mastoprompt
Advertisers long have understood the subliminal
the minimal ways in which they could
embed ideas into design, along the liminal
it's criminal, to get sold something inside a song;
an ear-worm inside your head; it feels so cynical
for #mastoprompt
The composition spills wide open on the stand before her; the violinist stares
at the jumble of flats, sharps and staccato signs, dynamics, time signatures, and modulating keys
The Maestro believes in making his mark by re-arranging points where sounds intersect
but she feels like a surgeon working in the dark, an artist with a bow, a broken body to dissect
for #mastoprompt
Unspooled threads from your favorite dress
Our magpie sings, then steals with finesse
Weaving patterns into softened caress
We huddle inside, our safety nest
for #mastoprompt
Read - ready - read
the book resting beside her head
tells the tale of the world she dreams about
every night, in the hours before bed
for #mastoprompt
Night sky vision takes a sacred moment to settle in
then, the blood moon, fades
as a canvas of stars and planets, constellations, bodies otherwise invisible,
still in the sky, remain
for #mastoprompt (on the morning of the 2022 total lunar eclipse)
Gossamer threads, tightly woven
the long night, leans in, spoken
the tension, becoming broken
the spider weaves an exit,
with a morsel, leaves its token
for #mastoprompt