This is another poem based on prompts by Terri Deno.
It’s still there, her old scarf,
Hanging, faded and torn,
Not as black, not as shiny
As it was years ago,
Yet, even now, willing to dance with the slightest wafting breeze.
She used to tie it to her helmet during those evening rides,
Letting it trail behind her
While we coursed over the countryside,
The rhythmic vibrations of my old BSA, and youth,
Pulsing between our legs.
A friend of hers said
It looked like a dark comet
Arcing through every curve in the road,
Trying to imitate our childlike exuberance. …
For 2020, author Terri Deno posted daily prompts, either text or images, to inspire people to writer for National Poetry Month. This one is a little different, pulling images from my horror-writing roots.
Perhaps it is only my imagination, but just before nightfall I see the leaves shining brightly against a graying fall sky. Yes, the days are getting shorter, the nights chillier, but it is still autumn. The next morning, however, some of the sparkle is gone. I think I know why.
For those using a screen reader, the haiku is:
Autumn sunsets steal
Color from the changing leaves,
Then fade to darkness
If you missed the Haiku for October 2020,click HERE.
This story is for Miranda Kate’s 172nd Mid-Week Flash Challenge. Miranda posts a new image each week for writers to use as inspiration.
While most of the guests at the hotel had turned in, sleep eluded him. Greg had been pulled into the merger negotiations at the last minute when a member of the original team fell ill. This sort of thing wasn’t his strong point and it wasn’t going well. He lit a cigarette as he walked along the lakeshore, taking a deeper drag than usual before exhaling into the chill night air.
He walked out on the pier. Lights sparkled in the distance. The night was clear and still, unlike his mind. Thinking he might at least try to get some sleep, Greg turned around to find a woman standing only a few feet away. Her dark hair and flowing dress seemed to swirl even without a breeze. Her face glowed in the moonlight; her eyes were intriguing. It took Greg a moment to compose himself. …
During April of 2020, author Terri Deno posted daily prompts on the web using either text or images to inspire people to write for National Poetry Month. Here my take on here seventh prompt, this phrase: a year goes by.
A Year Goes By
It feels as if I’ve stared out this window forever.
Today, the light paints the distant forest a dull gray,
Though there is little difference between this day and any other.
The path leading from my door
Is the same one used when she left,
Walking away, never looking back.
I had hoped for a change of heart,
A change of mind,
Enough so to try again. …
During April of 2020, author Terri Deno posted daily prompts on the web using either text or images to inspire people to write for National Poetry Month. While this year’s National Poetry Month is long gone, I’ve managed to write a few poems based on her prompts. I’ve been posting them on an irregular basis, but I thought I should hurry a bit so I can get what I’ve written out there before National Poetry Month starts up again as Terri will probably have a new list.
Terri’s sixth prompt was a simple phrase —JUST THE FACTS. All I could think of was Joe Friday’s famous phrase from Dragnet. I’d posted a poem on this elsewhere, but I’ve updated it (quite a bit) just to have it end up here on Medium. …
During April of 2020, author Terri Deno posted daily prompts on the web using either text or images to inspire people to write for National Poetry Month. While this year’s National Poetry Month is long gone, I’ve managed to write a few poems based on her prompts.
Terri’s fifth prompt was an image of traffic lights with a red light and green arrows. I wasn’t sure who had rights to the image, so I used one of my own. I didn’t post the entire photo here, but it is an interesting picture. Some person’s boat had come off the trailer in the middle of a busy intersection. …
The leaves are just beginning to show signs of the new season here. In the soft light of a fall morning, the muted colors have a depth that fades in the midday sun. It is a time to watch squirrels are hoarding acorns while the geese begin their migrations, to feel that nip in the air. It is a time of reflection.
For those using a screen reader, the haiku is:
Autumn’s gentle wind
Scatters the dry, fallen leaves;
Rustlers on the move
A Flash Fiction Story
A few words before our story begins…
Every now and then I go all Dashiell Hammett and start writing in that style, usually some sort of noir crime story. My mind seems to drift back in time about a century to the ’20s or ’30s. Maybe I’ll be hobnobbing with the silent film stars on Catalina Island. I don’t know why. I do enjoy it, however. Here’s a short one called…
Death in the Afternoon
Shoreside parties can be such a bore. Especially when your date has her hands on every guy but you. That’s why I decided to head out to open water that evening. I needed to clear my thoughts. I didn’t even realize Miriam was on board until the next day. She’d passed out below from having one too many. Or maybe two. Anyway, she stumbled up into the mid-morning sun to tell me to take her back to port; it was over between us. …
The Looking Glass
During April of 2020, author Terri Deno posted daily prompts on the web using either text or images to inspire people to write for National Poetry Month. While this year’s National Poetry Month is long gone, I’ve managed to write a few poems based on her prompts. This may be the most oddly formatted poem I’ve ever written.
Terri’s fourth prompt was visual — a young woman half-way out of a washer (or dryer, perhaps, as I interpreted it) in a laundromat. You can see it HERE, if that helps. It took a while before anything came into my brain for this one. I suppose my muse takes a day off occasionally. …