These are from tonight’s snowstorm.
– On Dragonfly Wings with Buttercup Tea’s Sunday Trees #274 – February 12, 2017. Photos ©2017 Leara Morris-Clark.
Nature of Things
She is a whiffler
Indeed, it is her nature
The weather obeys
– Written for Kat Myrman’s Friday’s Word of the Day Haiku. Word prompt was “whiffler”. Photo from Pixabay.
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Just a Little Chat
Mother chose a magazine from the stack. She flipped pages and sipped her juice. My tail twitched uncontrollably. The pigeon stared at me. I remained calm. I couldn’t get to him this time with the window closed between us. “I only want to talk!” I meowed and my claws popped out involuntarily.
– Written for Sacha Black’s Writespiration #101 52 Weeks in 52 Words Week 5. Prompt words were “time, stack, juice, pigeon.” WC 52. Photo from simple pimple.
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The Tracks
Watching the past pass away with its lights and shadows, I leave it all behind. I leave them all behind. Down these tracks, a new life waits.
– Written for Kat Myrman’s Twittering Tales #15. Photo prompt. CC 140. Photo from Pexels.com.
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Mayday
The smell of burnt toast permeated the air between us. The smoke detector blared in case I wasn’t aware our relationship was going down in flames.
– Written for Grammar Ghoul Press Shapeshifting 13 #91. Photo prompt. WC 26. Photo by Rick Warren.
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Abandon
Awake but asleep, I forsake it.
This is the last line of a poem I just wrote. I thought it might have a story to tell on its own.
If you are interested in 6-word stories, click here to read more and vote for your favorites and maybe submit one of your own.
– Written for Sometimes Stellar Storyteller Six Word Story Challenge. Prompt was “abandon.” WC 6. Photo from Pexels.
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Crisis of the Absurd
Muffled voices in the distance,
Impassioned but incoherent,
Shake me from my sleep
Or so I think.
Rolling fog of night or sleep
Distorts my view.
Damp air pricks my skin
And droplets converge
Soaking beneath my clothes bone deep.
My bare feet lead the way,
Which I do not know.
Uneasiness pulses through my veins
As I round the corner of a familiar street,
Though it does not look the same as I recall.
The sacred cow comes into view
Amidst a pile of rubble where it makes its meal
On filth and despair.
Its sad eyes concede.
I am asleep as I lay at its feet,
Awake but asleep as I forsake it.
– Written for Pix To Words Pic And A Word Challenge #74. Word and Photo prompts. Word was “absurd.” Photo prompt by Patrick Jennings.
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