If I Were The Father Of Children

16 Apr

If I were the father of children
I would tell them that the sky is blue denim
and they would worship the moon.
If I were the father of children,
people, meeting them on the street,
would smile and wonder, would pause and smile.

My children would have the certain knowledge
that Summer’s color is caught in Autumn’s air.


Thanks to Writer’s Digest for the prompt.  I admit to a bit of a dry spell, and I’m glad to have a reason to dredge these oldies up for a fresh revision.


Kenning The Moon

15 Apr
New Moon

New Moon

Kenning The Moon

Call it what you will, call it
night dancer or dark lamp;
call it —new— face hider or
Bashful Nightbride.
called by any other name
remains its magic self, calls.

(NOTE: Kennings are metaphorical phrases developed in Nordic sagas. At their simplest, they generally consist of two nouns joined together, which imaginatively describe or name a third thing. The phrase “whale road,” for example, could be used instead of “sea” or “ocean.”)


Thanks to NaPoWriMo 2014 for the prompt.



14 Apr


A stone like that
is not to be moved.
One plows and harrows
around such stone.

Lichened and emphatic,
it will bear no displacement;
demands, instead, veneration.
Such a stone subjugates
by the mere force
of its undeniable

A stone lie that
is the meadow’s king.


Dark Roast

13 Apr

my morning coffee
before it looks like morning
–a drink black as sky

Six Word Saturday

12 Apr




Overnight, Spawn Sac Nets Icy Kegger

I’d never heard of spawn sacs before I moved to Vermont, but then again I hadn’t been fishing since I was a kid, either. Last night my (now deceased) best friend Cyrt (who also was not a fisherman, and would have celebrated a birthday next Friday) and I hooked on a couple salmon sacs, tossed them over the edge of the ice shelf still hanging halfway out into the Barton River, and hauled in a bright, shiny, untapped keg of Heineken! Score!


Lots more dreamy stuff from Call Me Cate at SHOW MY FACE


Yes…Yes It Does

12 Apr


Photo Credit: Helen McCauslin

Photo Credit: Helen McCauslin

wind gusts
haze forms
evening advances


We’ll See How It Works Out…

11 Apr

I’m going to work today and making it “Talk-To-Things Friday.”  I plan to ride up in the elevator (bad knees) and all the way up I’ll provide it with lots of verbal encouragement, like: “Oh, I know I’ve put on some weight lately, but I believe in you.  You can do it.  You’re really good at this kind of thing.”  And when the door opens to let me out, I’ll turn and address the empty cavern, thanking it profusely for its fine and capable service.

I plan to greet all the objects on my desk–probably with a blanket, “Good morning everyone!” but with special warmth for a few selected items.  Maybe, “Well, Mr. Stapler, we’re going to have busy day, you and I, eh?” or “Ms White-Out, I know you’ve been spread a little thin lately, but I’m counting on you to see me through.  I hope you’re up for it!”

I won’t be talking to any of my office mates, though.  I don’t spend a lot of time chatting them up anyway.

I’m pretty excited about the plan. I can’t wait to get there and smooth-talk my pen holder, give that friggin copier a piece of my mind.




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