A place to gather words before they get lost.
I am Telesto, a tiny moon in motion, a forgotten daughter of the Greek god, Oceanus, an orbital body of stories and myth - forget me at your peril, for I am proof that even the smallest of us can become our own centers of gravity
for DS106 Daily Create
Singing from the edge of a spring seasonal pool, a chorus of frogs
Melodic bird song: One lone nightingale, warbles under the moonlight
Whispered note, a breath, a conjuring frequency, one lone ear-worm, left
Along the edges of highways and roads, flowers - wild – paint the landscape
Suddenly: verdant - where brown dirt was, now grass grows green as the eye sees
Curved edges bending inward, the leaf as a cup collecting raindrops
for Algot
The field is abuzz with noise, an interlocking orchestra at work
Yellow petals drop; the bent stem droops – an aged man picking up papers
A palm-sized pencil, accidentally kicked by a kid, rolls its way to my foot, an invitation to writing; the graphite snaps before I scribble out this poem
a sorta Sijo poem, for DS106