whose bloom?


fallen feather

Courtesy of the September 3 prompt at NaHaiWriMo. We are entering my favorite season, autumn. The temperature is finally bearable, the changing colors speak to me of life, even as the world settles in for a winter nap. Because, well — naps! As a child, I couldn’t abide them. As a middle-aged woman, I love them. Speaking of seasons, here’s a neat online quiz to refresh one’s memory as to the why and wherefore of what creates the seasonal change. Now, get out there and find some early fall leaves.

moment of peace

September launches a new NaHaiWriMo prompter for haiku. Today’s word was chamomile. A versatile and amazing flower, it has been used for centuries to soothe nerves and calm the digestive tract. Perhaps the act of cultivating and preparing the tea can be just as restorative. I do know that as autumn rolls in, hot tea with lemon, honey and a nip of whiskey go with fuzzy blankets, a good book, and a purring 4-footed friend.

let her molt begin

baby birds in a nest
she never knew
such greedy mouths
could feed her will to thrive!

her heart pierced by shafts
of pinfeathers fledged
and chirping calls soon to fade~

when will her molt begin?

The first line of this piggyback poem comes from The Horses, the Sorrow, the Umbilicus by Maureen Hays and her poetry prompt at Real Toads. I’ve been blessed with the chance to watch a Mama Bird build her nest, incubate eggs and valiantly defend them from such predators as myself who just wants to keep the flowerpot green and blossoming, but can’t resist snapping a picture or two as her babies grow. and apparently, anthropomorphizing-the-heck out of her along the way. Long live all Mama Birds!

my mother cannot leave me be

Man and woman standing arm in arm.
My mother cannot leave me be —
she points and clicks repeatedly!
No stage in life is left uncaught,
no quest complete without one pic,
no outing done without one print.
My mother cannot leave me be –
she points and clicks repeatedly!
Each exploit is an o’er-turned stone
of purple shore crab memories
untainted by reality.
My mother cannot leave me be —
She points and clicks repeatedly!
There are no mysteries of time,
each snapshot proof of days gone by
in Kodachrome reality.
My mother cannot leave me be!

picture home

Woman Dancing statue

each day i walk past
and wonder if form followed
function before her still life

to out-of-town guests
she is a hidden surprise
dancing in their memory

Chèvrefeuille’s Carpe Diem #1478 Harbour challenge gave the option of using the photo he provided as a prompt or one of our own. The photo I used was a picture I took of the “Woman Dancing” statue in my hometown. She has always intrigued me, and given half a chance I take guests for a stroll along the Capitol Campus to see her and other public works of art.