Thursday, October 28, 2010

Magpie Tales

A bound and folded stone,
a piece laid down
from an old newspaper obituary

'It is white' The witch thought
'To remind us of the bones
in Moonlight.'

Ne'er mind the dates of birth and death,
ne'er mind the name... 
'All has been boiled rightly
and placed where it will be 
seen the most'

Beware. She turns in sweeping
black, so much
a thin angled shadow

there is only a glimpse
of bent bristle on the tip
of broom, as she launches

a mere wisp of sound
for any mortal nearby
to sense.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Microfiction Monday


Will he ever come? Susan had enjoyed swimming and food;
now she just wanted to get to away from Buddy
and back to town for the Chess match.

Monday, October 18, 2010

Microfiction Monday 140

She thought looking downcast was appropriate
later maybe climb out a window,
cast a powerful spell-
or there was always poison in her ring.

Sunday, October 17, 2010

Sunday 160

Acorn touchdown
crashing shattered
chewed open or smashed
in gravel,
a few nestled by earth
wrapped in leaves;
yet other nuts land
invisible silently vigorous

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Magpie Tales

"Yes sunrise, I am coming!"
Light a candle for the new day
Throw open the dutch door
as you hear the train coming into the valley,
On a clear morning you can even hear the rumble
of all the wheels,
Sound carries and purifies the air.
You wish for a good drum,
some brass handbells- anything
to match the hope of it.
Behind the door is your apron
you step aside to put it on,
and realize a yearning
for creative purposes;
raise your voice
" Bread and pies, here we come!"

Friday, October 8, 2010

Flash fiction 55 10/8/10

It used to be
a red and yellow suitcase
carryied my important life inside,

Then a neon orange back pack
complete with sleeping bag
and pocket knife.                 

For a while a car
with an air mattress
and tent rolled up inside,

Now a camper shades
our driveway
with a kayak by its side. 

Monday, October 4, 2010

Microfiction Monday 140

Rescue:From what you should not have done

From your curiosity

The dark of "No"

and that little key;

From the lie you built into marriage

Friday, October 1, 2010

flash fiction friday 55, 10/1/10 : Intrigue

A forest glade
undergrowth is cleared
enough to see
and ask
What are these massive trees?

walk, looking up
and down,
propped against one trunk
small figure, stuffed with hay and dressed in denim
no face drawn
or sewn.

Going around another base
a broom
stiff and tall .

Then, an ornate golden key.

What then?