Hour #3 – Walk

Edit: Okay, so I misunderstood. I did prompt #4 for Hour 3. Oh. Oh. This is going to be a long 24 hours. I thought I was going to have this hour to write the poem from the transcript below. Oh, well. Time for that next week! Hee.Hee. On to Hour Four!

This is not edited. Just copied from my phone Voice Memos on my walk with my doggo! I so appreciated this break. We didn’t get a walk this morning because I slept in. Thank you!


Robins looking for worms. Baloo hiding under the tree
Doves cooing. Leave it. Hi, Baloo.
Rumbling car. Splashing tires.
It’s cold for a summer day. Very cold.Wet. Clouds rolling across the sky. Peek of light. Sun and warmth at the horizon disappearing quickly.
Fading iris curling in the cold. Fading scent of grape KoolAid. You know that smell that scent.
Water rushing in the gutters, in the storm sewers below our feet. Benny’s claws clicking on the sidewalk. It’s time for a nail clip.
My woolen poncho flaps open in the wind. This is not the second day of summer.
I should have worn a heavier coat.
Something moved in the tall grass a few weeks ago. Benny won’t let it go. He remembers. Every day he still looks. Is it there? Is it back?
Oh, the peace of a cold summer morning. No one else is out. I can hear crickets in June. I can hear birds. Even the grass blowing in the wind. Wow. The peace of a cold summer morning.
I hear my footsteps. Scraping. I need to remember to lift my feet. Uneven gait. I look like a little old lady. Or maybe my father who waddled back and forth when he lived with us. I understand now.
Oh, I hear a duck. I know they’re here, too.
We haven’t seen any snakes yet this season sunning themselves on the sidewalk. By now we should have encountered many. We haven’t had a ninety degree day yet. In Colorado on the plains. The weather is odd.
I smell the water in the small running brook that cuts through the open space. There is old stuff there back in the trees and bushes. It’s not a pleasant smell, but it reminds me it is there.
…that it’s important and needed
I am glad for this walk, this pause in the day. I didn’t have time to do it earlier. It is welcomed. The yucca stands straight and tall welcoming us.
A running is coming. I’ll listen for his beat.
Oh, he’s a good runner. Light on his feet.Barely could hear his pad lightly touching the earth with his thin lank body. He waved and smiled. A bit unusual. They usually don’t. In his bright green vest to be seen. To be noticed on this grey dark day. Isn’t that what we all want? To be been. To be noticed.
In the lower part of the walk, below the street-line, there is no wind.It’s warmer here.
We rise back to street level and the breeze blows across my face, pushes my hair away from my ears. They get a little cold. I call for my crow friends. They’re not out today. I wonder where they are?
There are soft patterns in the grey rain clouds. Not hard lines but brush strokes.
…without definition. Nothing really to be seen. Merging and melding into each other. Yet still staying powerfully themselves, only in a different way. Do they hold? What do they hold for us today? More rain I suppose.
Car doors slam. Car lights turn on. We have to be seen today.
I wish to stay longer but I have words to write. turning around a little more quickly than we otherwise would we head back home and the wind is picking up. Good thing. The trees rustle their newly opened leaves. Their shapes round and tall reaching towards sky or down to earth heavy with rain. Colors. In shades of greens and reds.
We turn towards home. That’s a good thing. I see little drops of rain beading up like diamonds or crystals on the back of my doggo’s fur. He doesn’t need a poncho. He doesn’t like the rain though.
The warning on my phone. “low battery” pops up. It is a good thing we’re headed home. Words to be written. Images to be seen. Acknowledgments to be given.
Come on. leave it. Benny wants to play with Baloo.  No today. We don’t have time. Baloo like Benny, on his terms.
In gratitude of this walk, thank you for giving this prompt.

Hour #2 – They Emerge



I will be painting through the 24 hours as much as possible. I began this painting yesterday on the Solstice.
©Lexanne Leonard. This is a WIP (work in progress). I will be painting through the 24 hours as much as possible. I began this painting yesterday on the Solstice.

They emerge

from thick laid paint
white and silver
old canvas veiled
portal for those who tend

they emerge
from East
sun rises
a phoenix new
yesterday used up
burnt to ashes

they emerge
from South
feet touch Earth
in concert
with beasts and roots
we walk as One

they emerge
from West
waters wash away
cleanse, baptize
and She Moon tends
even in her deep dark stillness

they emerge
from North
truth, breath of life
our lungs full
our breath returns
our truth is shared
sacred weaving
sacred life

they emerge
from deep below
roots twine in kinship
from above Star Nations
wait joyously for our return

And they emerge
to step with us
as if a magic we see not
in front, from behind
both sides, all around
above and below
they emerge
our hands held
we are cradled
they are here

Hour 1 – Summer Snow

I am birds welcoming day
snow in mountains
rain on plains
this second day of summer

I am warm with coffee
and black furry head
who wants to chase squirrels
squirrels who sleep instead

I am ancestor
those who have been
those who will be
the one who is now

I am creator of my life
artist, poet, doggo mom, wife
who unhinged the box
and jumped out to be

I am
the musts and shoulds and have tos gone
coloring in and out of lines
swashes and shapes
bold, unrefined
soft and still
in gratitude
welcoming wonder and grace
I am

Let’s get going!!!!

This is my third marathon. I am so very happy to be back! I’m from Centennial, Colorado, USA.

i retired last year from teaching first graders. I miss them, but I am having a wonderful time rediscovering who I am.

I am a Certified Red Thread Guide. I call circles of people together to find our connections and share our lives. I am also currently a Color of Woman in training with Musea. Musea is a museum, school, and guild focused in the philosophy of Intentional Creativity. We paint with intention to revision our stories.

Writing has also been a passion for me and I enjoy adding photographs to my poems. I hope to do this throughout the marathon.

Break-a-leg, everyone!!!