Read on a Rock

There are signs

You need to be still

They glow, sometimes blink

Others cry out into the wildness

Hoping they will be heard

Barile message read out

Following requires little

Complications are excuses

Its made obvious for a reason

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Mistress of Ceremonies – Worlde

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1. calyx [the sepals of a flower, typically forming a whorl that encloses the petals and forms a protective layer around a flower in bud|a cup-like cavity or structure, in particular|a portion of the pelvis of a mammalian kidney|the cavity in a calcareous coral skeleton that surrounds the polyp|the plated body of a crinoid, excluding the stalk and arms]
2. obscure
3. solicit
4. lurid
5. box-cutter [a thin, inexpensive razor-blade knife designed to open cardboard boxes]
6. suede gloves
7. dilettante [a person who cultivates an area of interest, such as the arts, without real commitment or knowledge]
8. glisten
9. espionage
10. drop box [(in weaving) a box situated on either side of the race plate of the loom that is designed to hold shuttles and to bring bobbins of colored thread in line as desired|a secured receptacle into which items such as returned books or videotapes, payments, keys, or donated clothing can be deposited]
11. whisper
12. bounty

Reason lays like a glistening bounty. She wraps herself in suede gloves and an obscure veil of espionage. She leaves the rest of us like empty calyx after the flowers receive box-cutter shave.

We were guilty of whispers of lurid and solicited truths. She, the dilettante that is she, hides her empty thoughts on a drop box painted in abstracts.

After the Flood

On July 15th, this valley had a severe flash flood & a dozen members of one family perished here. The first image is a memorial to a 2 year old child, the second youngest victim.

Image two is a metal picnic table that has been moved a half mile from where it started, and it’s over a hundred pounds.

Image three is a stack of logs and tree trunks almost six feet tall.

Last is the calm river today

Sunday Whirl – Games without Frontiers

It was clear her taunting use of body was a lesson. With the fury of a war mission, despite the price I would pay, disbelief would be no option. I would slide into the dirt beneath her motives if necessary. I can win this game, or so i thought.

Passing Time

“The Devil’s pocket watch had no hands.” Parson Dubois whispers to the pale breeze.

His eyes look for the passage of time or life…Or anything. His wooden bench testament of a barn no longer in use. Much like the rest of the dozen buildings long abandoned that make up Destiny. His world of three dusty rows mistaken for streets.

His mind places people about the store fronts. Ghosts of days gone by. Horses tied to posts. A wagon left half way between coming and going. Sounds of children ring out. Ladies in long dresses meander past lost in conversation about their neighbors.

The church bell clangs behind him. He jumps up to answer. His hands part the brown faded doors. The empty rows of pews lay sleeping. A simple dias with an open book holds service to a lost cause. Yet behind a partial wall there seems to be life.

His stands fast in the middle to gaze out among his missing flock. He knows no-one should have gone past him. His company creates a mystery. Even the ghosts have departed these parts.

From a corner jumps a ten treat old Reggie Whitener. His Amish hat just about swallows his head. His smile lights up the room.

“I waited till I seen Mr Miller..just like you ask of me!” Reggie stands like he is ready to run and chase the wind.

“Well, that’s a good young man.” He speaks faintly while his eyes look upon someone gone to his reward several years earlier. “Now light us a candle and take your place near your momma.”

He gives into the scene. Voices fill a previously empty church. Parson Dubois wipes his eyes of the flow of tears. He is smiling for first time in a long time. His back remains to the church. His pulse kicks up a notch causing a hot flash.

He turns to hear an angel’s voice calling the assembly toward the light. Standing together six and thirty begin to sing. Each face lights up with a soft glow. They all gently sway side to side in rhythm of the hymn. One last beacon of hope from the ashes blown around for a generation.

“You have all come back to me!” he leaves a careless laugh to his words.

The breezes blow past. Through the windows a world grows dark. The faces smile brighter.

“It’s time you came home with us.” They collectively sing.

Parson Dubois falls sidewise on the bench. His pocket watch no longer needs hands either.

FFAW – Good Ole Days

Puff looks over at HR.

“Remember the good ole days…” He pauses turning his head to the sky “We could breath fire and chase a bad child or two.”

“Video games. That’s the problem.” HR Puff’n’stuff looks at his friend “Violence has replaced getting eaten by mystical creatures. Sad. Really sad.”

Puff let’s loose a terrific flame followed by a smoke cloud.

“Knock it off over there!” HR furrows his brows. “They’ll can us for sure. You know open flames are dangerous!”

“Imagination was the key to great adventures.” Puff looks surprised at his friend. “Are we left to be rationalize as irreverent?”

“How’s that rent over in Honalee getting paid?” HR rolls his eyes.

115 words

Faint Memories of Yesterday

Little whisper calls

A flash in the eyes

Nervous energy sparks

It’s the smell of hope

Taste of salt from the beach

Memories make clay of thoughts

Churning inside reaching for daylight

The touch of possible

Stirs lost sensations

Eyes delve for images

Time wisps away from now

Sepia shades of what was once

Crayons outline what could have been

If’s and Why’s dance in circles

Wants and needs choose next colors

Still the whispers persist

Distant dreams vividly wave like flags

Crying out to remind you

Here isn’t a destination but a passage

Faint memories of yesterday

Desperately trying to awaken you

From the sleep we call living

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/faint/”>Faint</a&gt;

Wordle – Shallow Heartbeat

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1. devour
2. self-possessed
3. exhaust
4. chaste [abstaining from extramarital, or from all, sexual intercourse|not having any sexual nature or intention|without unnecessary ornamentation; simple or restrained]
5. dowry [property or money brought by a bride to her husband on their marriage]
6. pollen
7. white sweet clover
8. arc
9. the conventional position
10. animate
11. fawn
12. sprout

A lovely set of arcs spells out a promissory dowry. A tender fawn or maybe a honeybee drawn by white sweet clover pollen. The idea sprouts maybe a wolf in sheep’s clothing using the conventional position before it devours prey. The act of self-possessed mind playing chaste or just animated figure exhausting possibilities.

FFAW – Aliens

This week’s photo prompt is provided by yarnspinnerr. Thank you yarnspinnerr!

“There has been strange lights in the woods for the best part of a week. Jeb says there’s a tree trunk made of concrete. It’s time we look it over.” I look over at Rodney. His black eyes hold my fast in my chair.

“We been out there before. Same lights…things get funny out there in them woods.” Rodney uses the back of his hand to rest his bearded chin his arm angles to the arm of the chair. “You ought to think this through.”

His words flood back night images of dancing lights and unworldy sounds. We always promised never to talk about what happened. Neither of us could put enough pieces together to make sense of it all any way.

“But they are tiny. We seen them. If we just smash down the nest…” my words float across a dead silence. “It’ll be different..this time.”

“Well, that Gulliver shit didn’t work last time! I got my double barrel sitting right here.” Rodney pats the but of the wooden end of his shotgun.

“Its our woods! It ain’t right to let them build and take over it.” My defiant streak fights my lack of memory from last time.

199 words (borrowing from short pieces 😉)