Enga mellom fjella

Images and Ruminations

IMAGES and RUMINATIONS:

In the afternoon the twit and flit of songbirds crowd around the feeder; sparrows peck at crumbs. One lone beige cardinal in its January new-moon plumage tilts the green plate holding corn, spills it to the ground.

Small brown leaves of the copper birch hang like seed pods when viewed from a distance. Yellow dandelions left over from spilt sunshine hide in the withered grass. Death is preserved in winter. The beating sighs of the dove mourn the passing of daylight.

Two vees of geese head west towards the yellow clouds, heralds of the setting sun.
[164.453] (fictionalized real images)

In this moment, strife and anger reign
disrupting friendships
dispensing pain;
yet,
down two futures two roads converge
and of this moment
nothing else remains.
[164.454a] (fantasy based on real emotions)

4 corners and 1 woman
listen to the wind in her hair
weaving dreams of what will rise there,
long after the signs have rusted
long after her eyes have ceased to see.
[164.454b] (fantasy thinking about Dixon, MT, a place I have never been.)

Sun streaks
across wrinkles, flickers
yellow-green and purple-pink
sears the back of eyelids,
fades to charcoal, orange,
thin lines of red.
[164.454c] (based on real experience)

PROMPTS:

Do you write to prompts? This other writing website (CriticalPoet) has poems in response to the death of a young child, Sarah LeBlanc (1999-2007):

http://www.criticalpoet.com/forum/viewtopic.php?p=209210&sid=98cc8a35d04c36d4748...

My friend Kevin (in California) has a co-worker who knows of the family. He sent me the link. I might write something, but I'll send it to Kev as I don't always write G rated poems and CriticalPoet reserves the right to edit (which I also don't cater to) and I have real or imagined issues with privacy as it is ... even with WDC.

I am reading Spanish Dagger (Spanish dagger is another name for a variety of yucca.). The author, Susan Albert Wittig uses the word "fam-damn-ily". This is what immediately came to my mind:

And there they were, the whole fam-damn-ily raking coals, stoking embers, pretending that this vacation up at the cabin wasn't some cold hell contrived just to annoy me. Tears melting, blood congealing, I turned to go back outside to the safety of the blizzard.

Since I seldom write short stories or flash fiction, the above will have to wait until I'm inspired!

ME:

Any day in Winter when I can hang out my wash on the line and it dries, is a gooooood day.

Saturday was rough; Sunday I slept in. Today I'm reading and doing a blog and drinking more coffee. Shoot me now.

Joker is squawking! Parrot is having a chirping day.

Kansas: 62º and breezy.

1635