It takes quiet, doesn't it, to notice the lone leaf, dropping?

The way it swoops its way downward, taking its time dancing on the currents

This, the first sign of summer ending, signaling something to a sleepy world

for #openwrite

We thought it was surprise snow, in June, in middle America, because we were young and didn't know any better, the two of us, barely still boys, in that old Buick, barreling back to New England, from Madison, the mission to Wisconsin to woo her back, a failed one, but still, a college break adventure, and it was a swarm of bugs, not flakes, a night cloud of them knocking glass and waking us up so fully with surprise we finally laughed at it all, and that's what we still remember the most: the storm of insects clouding our view as we drove east, back towards home

for #openwrite

Even broken strings on an old broken guitar sing in deep repose;

the memory thrums - the hand strums an architecture of notes

Somewhere, that familiar song still plays in a broken key; its resonance, floats

for #OpenWrite

I'm often wandering through the words of poets, sneaking small pockets of ideas, stealing seeds for sprouts, holding out hope on how poems emerge from dirt tilled by others; take a breath, blow, and let dandelions flow

for #OpenWrite

Suddenly In Bloom

You merely blinked and then it was as if the switch, flicked; the flowers bloomed

for #OpenWrite

This becomes that and that becomes this, but which is the what and what is the which, and where is the when, for when a look becomes that, and that becomes this – is it then that this glance becomes kiss?

for #OpenWrite

Ode To A River Current

Knitted along the edge where running water caresses sand, we stand here, quiet, listening, imagining ways in which days fold in, forever looping, linking, patterned inside the sounds of a fixed flow, never broken but for brief moments of falling

for #OpenWrite

Every sort of idea ignites the page,

astonishes the writer , as much as reader;

A poet is compelled to uncover a poem

framed as something new, something true,

But while we crave original, we listen for the echoes

for #OpenWrite with this random word list: ignite astonish compel frame crave

Start with a greeting - more formal than friendly – and then a few notes to hum alongside with (maybe be in a minor key) – but the start of something longer belongs better in a letter, not converted into music manuscript, or else you'll be resigned to never being finished, for words elude you: this cover letter languishes

for #OpenWrite

Sound, of you becomes me, a symphony in a major key, a string of sixteenth notes strung together, harmony and melody merge together so that one voice is two, me plus you, resting beneath the sign of Fermata

An etheree poem for #OpenWrite https://www.ethicalela.com/etheree-revisited/