Cohering Sunshine
Labels:
cohering sunshine,
fototudes,
moment,
naquillity,
nature,
photographs
·
Turning, I see a plethera of cocklebur and milk weed swaying, lithe bodied against the wind. Their timed rhythm plays to the camera's glass eye. Focused and steady I release the tension in my finger. The milk weed has birthed her downy white feathers. Their soft sheen covered with brown seeds.
Three horses stand in quotation of tree and frozen pond across the road. Poised, I break wind's voice with a shutter. Walking along the barbed fenceline I spot a bird's nest, coyly hidden. My camera seeks no respite.
I create a fractured blue sky and wait for the mosaic pieces to fall around me like dandelion seeds. I want to take the variegated colors, caught in my pocket, home. My ears seek refuge in the sound of a small plane flying overhead.
When the sound evaporates into the gold sun I move to a lone tree. I touch her sutured pain- six parallel scars- along her waist and wonder how she survived as her toaster-aged skin is crisp and dry from years of exposure to the cohering sunshine.
My story evolved from a few hours outside yesterday with my camera. I simply started taking pictures and couldn't stop.
prayer flag
Labels:
mirrored refrain,
naquillity,
poesaics,
prayer flag
·
beneficent vibrations on nature’s breath
sidles across countryside, the hour of sun.
vivid color dries on winter’s shoulder
where prayer approaches their tongue.
their words filter out, warm, into cold air
and continues to smolder
where prayer approaches their tongue,
vivid color dries on winter’s shoulder.
their invocations aren’t bottled
inside mother nature’s deflated lung.
vivid color dries on winter’s shoulder
where prayer approaches their tongue.
a smooth picture captures the essence;
a brief moment, of something bolder.
where prayer approaches their tongue
vivid color dries on winter’s shoulder.
dreamstone
Labels:
dreamstone,
naquillity,
palindrome,
poesaics
·
elusive; edge of hard surface.
long... before touch again.
map, lost inside head,
twisted brown and green
with shaded sunshine.
sunshine shaded with
green and brown, twisted-
head inside lost map
again, touch before long;
surface. Hard of edge, elusive,
face your stonedream.
Abandoned Trestle
Labels:
3ww,
abandoned trestle,
icy,
naquillity,
paused,
poesaics,
train
·
Seattle, Lake Shoreand Eastern Railway
1885- 1896
Snoqualmie Falls
Abandoned Trestle
Seattle, Washington
photo by John Johnson
My eyes linger on
Vintage remnants
Once born against a
Threadbare mountain.
Refurbished land, splintered green
An abandoned trestle
Lies on sutured ground,
Ingrained by parallel seams.
Her aged black skin
Perspiring beneath a creosote sun
Is paused
For a train never sounding
Her intoned whistle.
A sloping north hemisphere
Bestowing icy Snowqualmie Falls,
White spittle dredged my skin.
3WW words are in bold.
door
Labels:
cristina m russo,
door,
naquillity,
poesaics
·
drab iron peacock wingsdredged with broken glass is
dressed above vintage wood.
diminished antique is
deprived vibrant color
delicate touch of hand
deceased before one’s eyes.
Photo by Cristina M Russo
church
Labels:
abandoned,
bumper sticker,
church,
love falls church,
naquillity,
poesaics
·
ground weathered by untouched graves
forgotten white church
Hubby saw a bumper sticker yesterday that said love falls church. When he woke up this morning he said he wanted me to write him a haiku with those words. So, I chose to write about an abandoned white church. We found the church while riding our four wheeler in the hills. I wish I had a camera that day because it was a beautiful place.
early bloom
Labels:
bradford pear tree,
early bloom,
found poem,
naquillity,
pear tree,
poesaics
·
a Bradford pear tree
was in full BLOOM,
led authorities to close
interstate 75,
sweeps leaves away
over the whir
of passing cars
on that August morning.
My first attempt at a found poem. I was sick while attempting this. Hence the shortness. I might revisit this one when I am feeling much better. Or, I might attempt a new one later and see what comes out. At least, I like where this one was headed.
of passing cars
on that August morning.
My first attempt at a found poem. I was sick while attempting this. Hence the shortness. I might revisit this one when I am feeling much better. Or, I might attempt a new one later and see what comes out. At least, I like where this one was headed.
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