Honeysuckle Winter
Another 3-6-9 prose poem: three verses, 69 words each not counting headings. Flickr Photo Download: Honeysuckle by wit 1. Dreaming The thermometer reads 20 degrees F. I’m huddled on the couch under blankets and quilts. The old furnace wheezes and grunts to bring the room to a balmy 59. I’m dreaming summer evenings on a winter morning. I dream the warm scents: spices, musks, summer florals. I dream the first scentI recall, that magic perfume that rose with dusk, magnified on evening mist. Afairy net to capture. 2. Deflowering Only one scent could distract me from playing hide and seek with fireflies in the darkness, pulling me toward creamy petals,…
Human Scribbles
Flickr Photo by tim.perdue I never feel so humble,or so human, as when I toss my message-in-a-bottleinto the vast sea of words that is the Internet. It must be something basic, human, this need to scribble, like long ago humans leaving messages on cave walls. It binds me to past and future,these thoughts I scribble and add to the volume,like a voice to a choir,like a glass of water to the sea,merging into something bigger than my own small self. I scribbled on this Sunday but lost my Internet to rain until Monday. You can visit other Sunday Scribblers here.