Silent killer

Hate knawls at me

Teeth chewing on leather

Absolving my indifference

Price of caring varies

But doing nothing is free

Time slips away like sand

You can’t see darkness

You can only sense empty

Despondent memories grow

Lingering to poison me

Souring the breaths I take

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Sunday Whirl – Way to the Top

Low and tight, I grab at tree roots. My simple gravel path trimmed to a knife’s edge. My eyes caught a climb away from vertigo inspiring view. A stomach in knots, joins other spreading pains like gingham pattern.

I grab a branch to rise, only to receive a pine scented water spray when it slips slowly away.

Sunday Whirl – Sudden Trip

My hand skims the turbulent surface of Lake August. The electric motor whines as the minutes slide from the clock. My heart races. My cargo needs hiding. Daylight doesn’t creeps in to my view, revealing a tiny shed in a rugged lawn.

Who knew too much lust and a pillow could end this way.

Independence Day

Gentle flame dances

Upon unsettled winds

We see the light

It holds our way forward

Shadows will reach us

They tell us its dimming

But still the light glows

It has shown for generations

Twilight always brought tomorrow

Our faith rewarded every time

The flame speaks if we listen

It burns brightest against the dark

These truths are self evident

We are our own masters

But do we stay in the light

Freedom is ours to share

Wordle – Difference of Opinions

This week I am filling in – Wordle credit to Yves.

  1. pint
  2. chase
  3. fists
  4. cease
  5. sleeping bag
  6. octopus
  7. marooned
  8. metal
  9. breathless
  10. pennyworth
  11. wastrel (noun). a wasteful or good-for-nothing person.
  12. wanderjahr (noun). A year spent travelling abroad, typically immediately before or after a university or college course.

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Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem

The words can appear in an alternate form

Use the words in any order that you like.

Tag: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and Wordle

“Wastrel?!” I stand breathless as my fists cease to clutch. “You, my dear are tighter than an octopus squeezing every pennyworth rather than chase fresh meat.”

“I’ll raise a pint to that metal you received from the wanderjahr spent marooned in your hometown.” She smiles in that way the ceases hope.