FF55, 10/4/12, You Can Make It Up

The other night
sedentary from supper;
I didn't want to get up
off the couch at 7:25
and go out in the rain.

My husband was no help
"It is yucky out."                                  
Twenty-seven years ago I wanted
to take a class in Tai Chi.            
Finally I had class # 3,
and I couldn't move.

Mag. 137, 9/30/12 . Mysterious Uncle

It Must Be Time For Lunch Now, 1979, by Francesca Woodman

          " Not silver"  Mark held up one ornate fork. " These fit on that photo paper-
I tried it."
          Eric stood snapping photo's with his digital camera."This is weird-"
He rolled his large buggy eyes around, to take in the shadowy cabin. " Are
you sure he used this as a darkroom?" He waved an elbow, indicating all the
 cobwebs and mouse droppings.
         "Yeah man, I spent quite a bit of time in here with him" Mark got up." It was
ten years ago- I was young." He spun on his heel- " Photo's used to be really
complicated-" He pointed to a long bench. " Trays for developer, stop bath; over there-"
He spun right " Rope for drying.You hung them up."
          Eric followed his friends motions. " Like laundry?"
          Mark nodded. "They sold the enlarger. It used to sit over here-" He took three
giant steps to another table. "It was as tall as I was then!" He held an arm up overhead.
          Eric whistled softly.
          "That closet was where he developed all the film-where no light could get in."
          " Sounds like a magic act-"
          " Kind of was!" Mark smiled, " Watching surprise images appear on a white,
blank paper!"

FF55, 7/27/12 Part 2, Suspended Alongside.

For the two men, then I
these links may as well be chains.
Yet his smile was so wide
and his hair so curly;          
The fine memories
spring up among his photographs 
mostly black and white
Clouds surrounded in echos
of his laughter;
and my Shepard running full tilt
captured airborne behind the pond.



    One of my favorite bloggers- and there are a few! - made a suggestion that I
give myself an opportunity to continue with last weeks story. I just finished reading
a piece in The Sun, Magazine - about the disappearance of a person
who is dear and close to us...

Toads, 35: Turn The Key To Start My World

Sun shines with aqua
on flowers and trees, outdoors. 
 spacious home
with art on walls          
 books on shelves,      
food on plates.
Husband, friends
and animals grace each day ;
with prayer,laughter
work and play !                      

 This started late with Mama Zen- and then somehow linked up with Theme Thursday- thanks to Brian landing here! anyway it is fun-

Mag 127, 7/22/12, No Pause

                                                           Figure Eight, 1952, by Franz Kline
     
                                                  The instructor gave us  8 seconds.
                                               " This is all about gestures and important elements."
                                               I thought about recent events in my life.
                                               " Ready? you can look around and capture
                                              someone or something here- or pull an image
                                               from life.  Set?        -GO!"
                                               I don't know why I chose black, But I pushed
                                               the thick brush down, slurped it out of the pot.
                                               Then my dark haired brother appeared
                                               in his tux, standing hands clasped in front of
                                               the pine and spruce; in my parents side yard.

FF55, 7/20/12 The Minds Eye

Did you hear
some deep and distant thunder     
as a tolling of a heavy bell       

that caught the core of you
when news came on the radio.
The mind became a cinema       

seeing a hiker with a round brimmed
hat and back pack;                    
Is death going one town over
from the small planes, woody crash site ?



    This piece is only a tiny part fiction and a long time forming.
It could be called a friends passing, but it is more complex...
This, minus a few details is an unfinished writing of 15 years ago.
It still requires some plumping 55 would not allow...

Mag 126, 7/15/12, Sunday Morning

                                                                    
                                                                                         artwork by Jack Vettriano


A dreadful night, just dreadful-
She felt like a teen age Cinderella-gone-wrong.

Her sigh shuddered.
Her cigarette was out
She had quit months ago anyway...

She turned from the window
Time to go down stairs and check on Ethan.

She stepped back into her heels
and tottered toward the mirror.

Oh my- the left eye was turning a nasty color;
Ice would be good- meanwhile,
She reached into her little purse

A comb came away
and she ran it absently through
the lock that had tumbled out

Managed to free a pin
and tuck it up with the rest.

Oh Mary- I am so sorry-


She bit her lip and reached for the door
Will my sister ever find it in her heart 
to forgive me ?