Rough edges always linger – a hard thought, aloft – a patient writer seeks a landing – a place for planting – where the ground is soft

for #mastoprompt

We always marvel at the wild seeds of flowers on the move

the ones who refuse to stay put, who visit cousins and neighbors and brothers and sisters,

reaching down to sleep until woken, their presence spoken in whispers of the soil

for #mastoprompt

She's worn out, she is, from scampering under root and bough, a dog now on the hunt for the serene of shaded grass, so I follow her into the quiet

for #mastoprompt

This river’s the only thing to notice in motion, here in a forest of topaz and green

I rest here and dream of the moment: how every ripple wanders towards ocean or sea

for #mastoprompt

a quiet moment of repose

tender is the time when kindness and closeness flows

not a word, necessary; she always knows

for #mastoprompt

One red maple leaf - half-buried in dust but still holding Autumn in Spring -

There’s the oddness of the world becoming visible only in the moment when it sings

for #mastoprompt

Half notes remember a forgotten tune

Eighth notes stutter, a popped balloon

Quarter notes dance, a pirouette cartoon

but Whole notes, linger, like wandering moons

for #mastoprompt

Under shadows, they bide their time:

the cast-off creatures

of the dusk sunshine

for #mastoprompt

Push or pull the wheels off course, and if that fails, use a little force

for #mastoprompt

Clouds, recovering, and rain drops, hard

for #mastoprompt