Butterflies live in air that is, to them, As solid as water. They swim, or fly, Tumbled by the currents. A garden of butterflies is, perhaps, A kind of aquarium Where we can sit Surrounded by air fish.

A bucket in the cellar held the beet crop from last week. Grandma was going to can them with cinnamon, a favorite family treat. The house tremored as a gang of elks roamed near, kicking grandma’s worry into high gear. “This wouldn’t happen on the…

tightened breath Released lunges Just ease Breathlessly   Holding Strong.

Bayou Beet coloured cheeks Cinnamon sands clothe us I touch your elbow as you gaze Tremor  

I Could Have Danced All Night   Your jacket was the color of cinnamon Which brought out the green in your eyes. I wore a dress—the deep, rich color of fresh beets. You took my elbow and led me to the dance floor.   When…

The tremor started gradually. Hardly noticeable to anyone but me. But it spread beyond my hands and now threatened to swallow my entire body.   Doctors, tests, needles, scans, and then waiting. The waiting is the worst part. The not knowing; the wondering if my…

Breezed Holding tight Let go Now it is over.

Prompt 8 – Music Track   Ready for Daytime   Sitting down on a park bench at dusk He closes his eyes Breathes in Holds breathes out he repeats this three times. His eyes still closed he Fine tunes his ears to Natures sounds, He…

preservation   hands stained with beet juice reminds me of Granny, learning at her elbow how to pickle all those veggies needed for winter from the days she learned from her granny when her father would bring elk to the house to feed the family,…

Leaving morning dew. Sun-kissed of earthen smells. Fresh warmth. Bare feet and relaxed.