Belonging, One Deep Breath

Winterland
White, wool, gloves, ice boots
Snow angels







No Swimming, Digital Photo by Sue

One Deep Breath Prompt: Belonging

poems and digital photos

Palm Reader's Welcome

A calling card bids me enter
turbaned lady offers answers
for coins and bills she reads my lines,
tells me who I am.
But, I say, my lines have changed
So lay another dollar here,
I’ll tell you what it means.
They’ll change again, I say.
Too late, I’ll be gone by then.

Fractal created in Fractal Explorer

poetry and photos

A World of Blurt

Fifty/fifty
Half-and-half
Nose to nose
Drawn lines
I’m right
You’re not
That’s true,
That’s not
Nose to nose
Half-and-half
Fifty/fifty





Sunday Scribblings Prompt: Left and Right

fractals

Winged Buffet

day sank behind the crest
night aroused the moon
one lone bat
vagile in the dusky quiet
pitched out tiny peeps,
circled the creekside’s
willow formation
and even as I watched
braces of crepuscular bats
plural as if called by the Ark
emerged from hidings deep
gorged on the winged fare
offered on that generous night

Poefusion Prompt: crepuscular, vagile, formation, willow and plural.

poems and digital photos