dogtrax

She startles in step, as a flock of geese, squawking, fly by, overhead

Your ghost silhouette lingers in the shadows, like a song I can't forget

Avoid beaten trails — traveling in wild places is where you should be

Wrap the blanket up around your shoulders and mine - leave night chills behind

One final petal drops beneath the fallen leaves of the old oak tree

for Algot

They Are From There

They are, to me, indecipherable as language, but beautiful, too, barely legible in the pen swoops capturing landscape and loss, the ancient land beneath them barely there, yet remembered like breathing, like singing, like writing poems by candlelight for someone else to read later

for #ds106 with this poem by Mahmoud Darwish as inspiration https://blogs.transparent.com/arabic/arabic-poem-%D8%A3%D9%8E%D9%86%D9%8E%D8%A7-%D9%85%D9%90%D9%86%D9%92-%D9%87%D9%8F%D9%86%D9%8E%D8%A7%D9%83%D9%8E-by-mahmoud-darwish/

My friend, Murph, was a drummer, extraordinaire - his back-beat, precise, like magic in the air

Calligram for #ds106 Daily Create https://flic.kr/p/2rxgbCZ

Red, after yellow, after green; the chlorophyll sleeps in cold weather

Etchings in the frost; Some mysterious scribbling of stories on glass

Wandering through fields shoulder high and still stretching; the rain feeds the grain