dogtrax

In slow-motion yawn, the tiger lily stretches then rests on the lawn

On a dreary day of drizzle, fog and grey clouds, hunker down with books

for Algot

Nested in farmland, in a ground home – easy prey - still, the skylark sings

The morning starts cool, the ground still covered in dew; wait for the warming

I catch a distant melody; a single note lingers on the wind

For one brief moment, the small hummingbird hovered and then disappeared

I'm often wandering through the words of poets, sneaking small pockets of ideas, stealing seeds for sprouts, holding out hope on how poems emerge from dirt tilled by others; take a breath, blow, and let dandelions flow

for #OpenWrite

Suddenly In Bloom

You merely blinked and then it was as if the switch, flicked; the flowers bloomed

for #OpenWrite

This becomes that and that becomes this, but which is the what and what is the which, and where is the when, for when a look becomes that, and that becomes this – is it then that this glance becomes kiss?

for #OpenWrite

Every so often I think I hear the sound of a Whiffle ball on bat – imagine that — there's nothing there — only the memory of a run-down, rutted path the boys once made on the backyard grass, and even that has disappeared, more and more every year, so that my wife and I are the only ones left to bear witness at the state of play, — standing at the window, remembering — years away from the cries of each home run hit with a blast, the whistling ball sailing over the fence into the neighbor's yard, sneakers falling off small feet as they beat a race, sliding, diving into home plate - the dog watching the show with his ticket stub bone