Somewhere, a god plays thunder on their drums, pounding the sky into song
A place to gather words before they get lost.
Somewhere, a god plays thunder on their drums, pounding the sky into song
Nodding off, asleep in the shade of a pine tree, rooted by river
Mill River Flood (Williamsburg)
Ten year old George, sat down to breakfast, then lost his entire family as the water washed through, and who knows if it was luck or grace, or just the opposite, that kept that boy alive
Reference: The Mill River Flood of May 1874, in Williamsburg, Leeds Massachusetts
A torrent of words spilling over the white page, a poem taking shape
Clouds, as a cover for flowers about to sprout - we wait the sun out
for Algot
Mill River Flood (Williamsburg)
Four days later, the inquest begins with the body of John Atkinson
but it was the dam itself the inquest jury was looking into, probing with critical eyes, and looking for blame
Reference: The Mill River Flood of May 1874, in Williamsburg, Leeds Massachusetts
Four feet dangling off the edge of the front porch; gossip goes easy
Mill River Flood (Williamsburg)
Rude boards Slips of paper Rings on fingers Names, only
Reference: The Mill River Flood of May 1874, in Williamsburg, Leeds Massachusetts
Did I just blurt those words out loud?
I'm not proud of the escape;
the things I thought but never meant to say
for DS106 Daily Create
Write into the night; shadow songs of lunar light; a tune; summer moon