readers & writers, welcome! a wonderful wednesday to you... hope that hurdling the hump is not half as harried as heaving yourself through the heights of monday and tuesday.
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it sounds like most of the u.s. is blanketed with snow or infused with freezing temperatures today. if you're home on a snow day or frozen inside your house because the door won't open, maybe today's a good day to come write with me! share your poem, creative non-fiction or short story response to the photo by clicking on comments below. here's my contribution:
5.7.5.
beautiful brambles ~
limbs bared to a keen blue sky
devotees of sun
5.7.5
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forests vanish leaving leaves
a distant dream of frolic
Hate winter
ReplyDeleteYup I like hiking, don't you think otherwise. I like hiking in the spring when all the baby animals run around you. i like hiking in the summer when it is too hot to take a long hard hike but just right to sit and rest in the shade under the branches of a great old oak tree. i like fall, when all the leaves cover the underbrush with a blanket of color reveling the dark blue sky. But winter...you have got to be kidding me. I like hiking 'cause i like life. winter...well it just destroys the point. My dad here, you see, doesn't mind. winter just shows like at a 'different angle' or a non-existent one. I don't know what's there to see in dead things. i understand dads passion for hiking in all other seasons. to see flowers and young animals, and even fall is full of brightness and color.
ReplyDeleteYeah, just me i guess, but i just don't get it-hiking in winter that is. winter is for reading, snuggling, and drinking hot chocolate and lots of tea.
Not, i repeat, not for hiking.
Somewhere skates the atmosphere
ReplyDeletecloud-light, far away from here
and down amongst the suffering
shivers-full, we remember spring
the last cool dream of the new raw year.
PLEASE LORD LET THE GROUNDHOG BE RIGHT.
Four years ago I did what we what old folks get to do sometimes, I "had my eyes done". My eyesight had been deteriorating mildly over the previous eight or ten years. It creeps up, this collection of cloudings of the crystalline lens, called cataracts, a term which invokes water turning white in the turmoil of speeding down falls or over rocks. However, in the human eye those opacities are not white, they are yellowish, and they slowly restrict vision and steal the beauty of color from our lives. Even more insidious than the loss of color is that it happens so slowly that we hardly even realize that the world is getting pastier and older looking, like the walls of a house where heavy smokers have lived for years. Fortunately, perhaps, there is some general loss of vision which is more noticeable, and even more alarming is the glaring of oncoming headlights when driving at night. Soon an annual checkup prompts the optometrist to suggest you "have your eyes done."
ReplyDeleteIt’s a fairly simple procedure. The ophthalmologist removes the lens and replaces it with an artificial one. Since the man made device is not yet sophisticated enough to contract to accommodate focus we usually have to continue wearing glasses for some situations, but the increase in sharp focus is startling. And the color? It's spectacular. I had forgotten that blue was blue. They do one eye at a time, of course, so for a while I got to look at the sky as I grown accustomed to it, blue, yeah, but kind of a grayish, blue, nothing worth turning the eyes upward for, with one eye, and BLUE!, like the living color of an acid trip with the other. My ophthalmologist told me I was not the only patient who had wanted to push the date of the second operation back an additional month just for the pleasure of being able to see life in these two startling ways for a while longer. Because once the second eye is done the ineradicable beauty of the world of blues and greens and reds and yellows becomes the daily experience, and we forget how readily it can be stolen from us without our ever realizing it.
The giant she’d become
ReplyDeletePleased her
She passed a church singing
Tore off the roof
Because she could
See all the people?
Singing silenced
Tiny people looked up
At her giant mooned face
They thought, she thought,
She is God.
Wow! Such wonderful responses to the photo. Each posting here is unique and wonderful ... I keep coming back to read again and enjoy. Thank you for writing with me. =-)
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