dogtrax

Some days, the world breaks down, like decomposition of leaves in the rain

for Algot

Between rows of trees, branches weighted with apples - the scent of decay - yet there's sweetness on our tongue as we sample the season

for #OpenWrite

A few too many words, wouldn’t you say, sit inside the bins of this rather long, ramble-on mess of words and lines and bent rhymes and something’s bound to be wrong when you just keep on writing, fighting the urge to edit away, to parse away, to cut away what needs to be cut, but you can’t even trust your gut anymore, because you know how it is when you’re writing your way out of a rut; everything tumbles loose like an avalanche, and only later, when you force yourself to sift through, to rescue, if only by chance, the thing you need the most; the verse that sits inside the mess of the poem

https://flic.kr/p/2rFye8S

for #OpenWrite

Bathing in the light of the long Winter Moon, closed eyes for dreaming

First snow; the first flakes falling a slow somersault, tumbling to the earth

Nature wears a mask - a truth beneath the beauty: Everything decays

Finger rubs off ink, the words of the newspaper fading, forgotten

In the fireplace, wood crackles in snappy time; the heat of the beat

A wind dance romance; each branch leaves its love to chance, and wild circumstance

for Algot

Not rutabaga - but rooted, with bright white flesh and greens: the turnip