The wine glass rested downside upon a hardback book Overlooked by some but not by me I was not stubbornly knitting Ignoring the world with my head in the sand I was not a coward. While mother kept knitting her stupid blanket I was required…

halluc:nogen  my hardback is : too heavy to hold so i half-dream : of sunflowers : knitting cheddar : cheese satchels : for their favourite gardeners : to keep seeds in there is no space : on the pavement : for my wine glass ….

I skip barefoot across the pavement, Ignoring your warnings. “Watch for nails!” you cry. But when the sunflowers are in bloom, I am invincible, and the oak tree keeps calling my name. I dance in the space beneath its boughs and tell stories of princesses…

A wine glass tucked in the corner, a crack running down its globe, tells the story of my realm that translucent crack visible to all the world cannot be hidden but will not be a hinderance either the glass stands strong, pieces separated, but still…

Prompt 2 The earth was crusty and sickly and pale Her tresses were knotted, her breath was stale And she burned with such burning alarm Her songs were silent, such deathly calm But through her grasses, there flew a whisper Blew a whistle, to gently…

I once played The Wild Horseman on the used piano my mother bought for my lessons. But didn’t like my teacher so I quit before I could play as well as she did. It was an upright piano. Used. We signed it inside the cover,…

One hundred years from now will we cry out at the ignorance of now? plastic languishing in our bodies, our rivers, our sea. the lingering melodies of mystics and creatives who begged us to see. some immigrated to new celestial stars, trying to capture what…

2022 prompt 4 / hour 4 “ghosts dancing in the forest”   The piano sits now, silent He moved it out of the house long ago Couldn’t bear to have it inside Couldn’t bear to part with it either It was *hers* Took it to…

You never met your father’s grandfather but you know him through evening tales you know him in songs of him you know that he is the first generation of pride   When your father tells your history he tells you to hit your chest and…

Forest Piano I hear a haunting melody In the forest moving from tree to tree Winter, Summer, Spring or Fall, This song is not so strange at all It plays in nature’s harmony A piano tune just flying free   I hope someday to find…