I held the book:

a place; hurrying through harbor lanes with furtive windows

I hastened, sheltered, a glimpse;

one had seen me, still, a blank laugh echoed

what worlds in that strange volume -

the unseen feet, padding

Summer storms change this landscape, forcing the small river to flow where, normally, it would not go

And all we can do is watch

For water finds its way, never gentle in the aftermath of tempests like this; Instead, it rages like a lion sprung loose

And all we can do is worry

And wait for the calm, the days following deluge, to find what paths remain and which, disappeared, ghost trails of memory

And all we can do is wonder

For #ds106 Daily Create on Wendell Berry’s birthday

Rivers like us know we must follow bends where current flows, but still push against it, in acts of resistance, curving against rock and stone

a Grook (sort of) for #ds106 #dailycreate

Laomedeia (Neptune)

I am once and always my sisters' moon -

a solar sibling to Halimede and Sao, in jagged orbit around Neptune -

we harmonize in frequencies only we understand,

a gift from birth, broken as we were, asteroid pieces of a Nereid's tune

for #ds106

Lear wrote with nonsense and joy he played with his words like a toy he'd bounce on a rhyme in a sing-song-y time to the amusement of the girls and boys

for #ds106

Arranging a day as a game Moving pieces – it's never the same with a roll of the die the time will fly and in the morning, we'll start up again

for #ds106 and #mastoprompt

I'm lost once again in your brush strokes of art and imagination

for Simon #ds106

Sunlight smiles between the spaces where shadow memory still slumbers

Oulipian Haiku for #ds106 (3-5-3-3-3) (structured 17 syllables/lines constrained by prime numbers)

The color of wind depends upon the daylight, bent in fractured light

for #ds106

inspired by Koan: “What is the colour of wind?”

From a distance, the drummers pound out an invitation to join with danceable, rhythmic beats

We're caught up in street songs, our voices, on city walls, echo turning into something sweet

A Golden Shovel poem, for #ds106, inspired by Sheri Edward's poem: Dance Your Heart Out via