Category Archives: Sunday Scribbling

Tree of Life

Sometimes waiting changes everything, Sunday Scribbling prompt#231 wait

Like Elijah in the bible,
he ran as though
life depended on it,
suspended from it.
He was running from
life to an end
of his choosing,
his own way of losing.
No answers, no quick fix,
no way out or bag of tricks,
would make it alright;
make a way out, a way up,
a way back into life,
to his wife to his dreams
that flowed out like
fast streams, wasted down
to the ocean. He ran til
his breath burned and still
found no solace. But one tree
stood tall with good solid
branches, to hold one, to
tie one to fate, and unnoticed
his gone-ness would offer
it’s own apologetics. What
did he believe and was it
all really worth it? He
laid down to rest thinking
after and after, to tie
one good knot and climb
high in the bowers, and one
leap of faithlessness ending
the hours of worry and searching
for answers, for reasons.
To keep on the working, the
trying, the seasons,
and so he did slumber in
shade softly under
the tree which did wonder
why it should be punished?
Should then be remembered
as death’s final say so. It
turned to the sun and in
whispers and pleas found
the answer in grace for the
sun talks to trees, and it’s greenery,
finery, turned into poetry.
Hope and tomorrows
did shower the fellow on
waking, and shaking
the sleep from his eyes and
aware, that he never again
would see skies noticed
leaves filled with light, filled
with words of the world, with
his memories, forgotten and
stashed away folded
like small bits of paper
stuck back in dark cracks
and scuffed up worn roughed up
in old billfolds, reading in wonder,
and tender, and love torn
asunder, he leaned back
on the tree and put his hand on
the bark and said, thank you
and stood. With a last look
he turned and walked back
where he came from, his shoulders
unburdened and next to the base
of the tree now unheeded
unneeded, a small length
of rope slowly covered as wind
blew brown leaves down and
rain washed the tree down
with promise of sunshine
in future tomorrows

Faith in Words

Sunday Scribblings Prompt #230: Faith

to you who can
for those who can’t
the call the all the pen
your words can tell
can ring like bells
the heavens sing
your words can ring
through all the earth
and wake the weary
trodden down the dreary
struggle hunger panged
preyed on by fanged
machinery goal
the life the goods
the needs of weaker
hearts that try and start
with hope but end
with dregs while
some will drink their
fill and spill the rest
upon the ground like
so much blood the
ink will flow and
go to kinder ears
who hear the cries
and lies and wisely
heed the words
and be the love
the change the hope
for more and less
that’s needed by
the hopeless needy
empty will you
fill the pages try
and keep on trying
in the face of all love
dying faith will keep
you take you hold you
I would lifted up and
gifted you with words
the only thing I had
to give
we write
to live to bring to life
to paint the world
to love to sing
to breath to fill
the empty places

a riff off a poet here

Hope Comes Creeping

Sunday Scribbling 229: Dangerous

I am afraid of many things
of sharks that bite and
bees that sting and spiders crawl
upon the wall and yet the thing
that most of all can
make me whistle in the dark
take the long way round
the park and feign the coolest
nonchalance is not a
living slimy creature nor has it
a furry feature unseen or
heard a little bird that
cruelly whispers in my ear
and tells me that the morn
is near and dark will end
and second chances
come around like dollar
dances changing partners
changing songs
all that is within me longs
to just believe and yet
a part just cringes deep
within my heart
for if I hope I dare
I leap I risk a disappointment
deep and silly me
I’d rather not I’d really just
as soon hold off if I
have little to expect then also
little to regret and yet
the whisper drags me in
pulls me in holds me in
the thrall of all the dreamers
silly schemers crazy weavers
of optimistic silky webs that
catch me and unhinge me
I am left without the armor
where’s the harm she sings
and I just cling and close my eyes
and say I’ll take a ticket please
the ride is worth it and the ups and
downs the clowns and even
scary thrills and chills uphill is
better than the boring flatlands
of my hiding place

A View of Stars

Sunday Scribbling Prompt: View

you were small my all
pajamas yellow
soapy powder smell
blue quilt fence row
pattern you know
I stitched round
tiny mound
the middle of
your bed I said
wake up I want to show
it’s cold so wrap up in the
blanket in my arms come here
it’s late but wait the sky
is clear and bright the stars
tonight you see come out
and we will lie our
bodies down on our back
porch and wonder wish
we’ll make and take
for granted that it will
come true and you will
not remember but the view
I can’t forget I tucked it
in my heart the quilt
a part of sky and you
the stars your eyes
I wished you and
you came to be

Which Half Shows

Sunday Scribbling: Halfway

I’ve been on vacation and hoping to get back into the swing.  I missed you all!

in my heart of hearts
my inner parts my softer belly
under wonder
scrapes the rocks and
locks me out or
locks me in and sin and pain
and fear like rain
falls over me and
I can’t see but others can and
peel the layers leaving
raw and judge me so
I am left wanting
just cliche all tan
and gray and nothing special
nothing much a touch
can hurt the wounds have healed
and some have calloused
half still raw and all your
malice makes them bleed
and plants a seed
of doubt that creeps
up in the dark and stark
and bleak the colors run
and I am left to
pick up stitch up
fill up empty places
shadowed spaces
that’s the child the
grownup learns to hide
the marks but still I shake
and doubt and take the hits
the pits can be as sweet
as fruit I tell myself and pile them up
and hope that in the end
a tree will grow and you
will know that I
was here.

W is for Wolf

Sunday Scribbling prompt #225- letter.  This story brought to you by the letter W for Wolf

Some people were afraid of storms.  Jae loved them.  They made her feel like every cell in her body was alight. The sky had darkened to the west and the clouds crept closer all afternoon.  The air smelled like rain and Jae raised her face to the sky and breathed the taste of lightening in.  She could hear the rumble of thunder still in the distance.  She wondered where Aedan was, if he and the pack were up in the mountains hunting.

She wanted to hate Aedan.  She was still angry at him.  It was confusing to be mad at Aedan the wolf and then like Aedan the man.  She knew they were the same, just as she was the same inside, whether wolf or human.  But, that wasn’t quite true was it?  She needed to see her family.  She hadn’t seen them since the first change.  She knew Simon spoke with them, letting them know she was okay.  She just wanted to see for herself.  Could she change and slip up to their home with the storm covering her?  She had never changed at will before but she knew she could. It wasn’t pleasant, but not painful either.  There was no one around, but she still felt exposed.  She stripped off her clothing and laid it in a neat pile under the bench on the porch, out of the way of the weather.  Jae walked out toward the stream where she had sat and talked with Aedan and concentrated on the wolf inside.  She felt a stretching and bending inside herself that was uncomfortable but familiar. The weird perspective change made her feel slightly nauseous for a moment until she adjusted.  The ground seemed much closer, smells and sounds assaulted her, clear and pure.  She could separate and name each one individually.

The storm was much closer now.  Small animals were burrowed down and even the birds were silent and crouched on branches nearest the trunks of the trees.  The world around her breathed with anticipation for the coming wind and lightening.  Jae took off at an easy lope, heading for the tree line.  She stayed in the edge of the woods.  Finally her house was in sight.  This might have been a mistake.  No might about it.  This was definitely a mistake.  She stood at the edge of the woods listening.  There was movement in the house and she could hear a fiddle.  Her dad was playing.  It was raining now and she slipped closer to the house.  The darkness and noise from the rain would hide her.  The sound of the fiddle became clearer.  She could hear her mother singing.  She was probably dancing with her little brother.  They sounded happy.  They sounded like they didn’t miss her at all.  All the pain and anger welled up in her and she raised her muzzle and let go to the moon and the lightening and all the storm, a howl that came from her heart, from her gut, from the place where all the unfairness lived.

The fiddling stopped.  Jae looked around in a panic, but it was too late.  The front door opened and her father’s shape was silhouetted in the light spilling out from the house, fiddle still in his hand.  Jae bowed her head, but stood her ground.  Her dad slowly raised the fiddle and began to play a few notes.  Jae whined, he played a few more.  She stretched and began to howl again as the man she had known as her father played a sad song to the little white wolf at the edge of the woods. A bolt of lightening hit something in the woods and lit up the sky for a moment.  Jae and her dad looked at each other.  Jae would always remember that he lowered his eyes first.  She ran through the night and the rain and the wind, all the way back to Simon’s house.  She fell asleep dreaming of fiddles and thunder.

More wolf Moon Stories

A Journey

Sunday Scribblings #221 : lifeswap

Adelyn always heard that the kitchen was “the heart of the home”. She didn’t know about that, but it sure was where everything happened in her home.  He was passed out now, head on his arms on the kitchen table.  He muttered drunkenly and she whipped her head around, making sure he was still asleep.

He never made a move as she fished the key to the gun cabinet out of his pocket.  She had her bag packed with necessities, not that she needed much.  Now she was raiding the gun cabinet.  He could just consider it payment for the knot that was swelling over her left eye.

She stayed after mama died.  Didn’t have much choice.  There wasn’t much you could do when you were fourteen.  That was three years ago and things were different now.  He had gotten worse, for one thing.  The more he drank the angrier he got.  This was the second time he had ever hit her.  It would be the last.

She grabbed several handguns and boxes of ammunition.  He knew what mama was when they married.  She didn’t know until years later, that he tried to get mama to quit.  He never understood that it wasn’t something she had a choice about.  He blamed her and when Adelyn started seeing shadows, he blamed mama for that too.  Said it was bad blood.  That was the first time he hit her.

Mama walked in just after the first swing of the strap.  The second swing caught mama on the back as she reached for Adelyn and pulled her out of his reach.  She stared at him without saying a word until he lowered his head. He walked out of the house and stayed gone for a week.

That was all in the past.  It was her turn to leave.  Mama was from Michigan.  Adelyn had a name and a town.  She turned the key and the truck engine caught.  She pulled up to the mailbox at the end of the drive and slid an envelope inside.  She would be a thousand miles away before he woke up and found the note. There was a time she would have swapped lives with anyone for normal.  Not anymore.

Another chance

Sunday Scribbling 220: Birth and Big Tent Poetry: milk, resent, praise, hungry, dangerous, cough, part, dark, comfort, stars, dull

milk and honey
land awaiting someday
dangerous to bet
on future wishes
leaves you hungry
in the night
resentment dulls
the appetite
a cough in the dark
becomes fear
that too much time
has passed just
sing your praises
to the stars and
take comfort in
the arms of
the present
part the veil
brush the darkness
away for daylight
gives birth to
another chance

Another Fine Mess

Wrote this:

A month ago, poems poured out, nearly everyday.  I worried that people wouldn’t come read, that I was posting TOO much.  Then the time of packing and cleaning out came and I kept thinking – when summer comes.  When summer comes.  I repeated that in my mind like our last SS prompt – a mantra.  Now summer has started and zip, zilch, nada…..

There are chores to attend to, left through the winter. There are papers and folders to sort through and cull.  Stuff I brought home from years and years of saving “in case I need it someday”. There are naps to be taken.  It will come.  I’m not worried.  Not me….

Then went to Sunday Scribblings and the prompt was mess

down the years and tears
the fears of what the future holds
unfolds on beaches
farthest reaches in the ocean
each and every living
creature giving up a piece a trace
of DNA now altered on
the altar of our way of life and
eyes to show fantastic
plastic throw away here today
gone tomorrow
all our sorrow we don’t care
won’t share just hurry coffee cup to go
don’t walk don’t talk
ac runs and engine guns
its only fuel we let it rule
its not enough to wreck the land we
venture now to oceans shores
we know the scores at two bucks
a gallon who is counting cost is
mounting make a wish
tell the fishes
food chain dishes
compromised forever more
fossil fuel whores
diseased the source
of tears of fears
for years


The Seer

Sunday Scribblings Prompt # 217 mantra

Adelyn stomped around the kitchen stuffing weapons and supplies in her backpack.  She jammed a round into the gun and stuffed it back into the holster on her side.  She clipped a huge knife to her belt.  She turned her back as she peeled off her bloodstained tee shirt.  Grabbing a clean one from the counter she pulled it over her head.  If he had been paying attention he would have seen the scars on her back. He was rocking back and forth now, chanting over and over “oh shit. oh shit.” like some kind of mantra.  He looked as pale as that thing that nearly took his head off.

She crouched down in front if him and gave him a smack on the head, then ruffled his brown hair. “Snap out of it!  I get that you’re in shock but we have to MOVE!  That thing was real and where there’s one, there’s bound to be more.”  She grabbed his chin and raised his face so he had to look at her.  She spoke in a calmer voice.  “Chris, there is a lot out there that most people don’t see.  It’s like a curtain separates this stuff from everyday people.  My mama and my grandma were both seers and I’m one too.  Trust me when I say this is real and we have to get out of here.  I’m sorry you got pulled into this, but they have your scent now and I have to take you with me.”

Chris focused on her voice and her eyes and shook himself.  “Wait.  Wait!  Okay.  This is really real?  I’m not going to wake up and wonder what the hell I smoked last night?”

Adelyn grinned and patted his cheek. “Nope, sorry.  This is as real as it gets. Come on.  We have to get out of here.   She stood and handed one backpack to him and picked up the other.  She handed him a pistol.

He stared at her. “Is this loaded?”

“Wouldn’t do you much good if it wasn’t.”

“I’ve never shot a gun!”

She grinned again. “Just be careful. The safety is off.  Anything tries to mess with us  before we make it to the truck, you point it and squeeze the trigger until it’s empty. Let’s go!”

He followed her to the truck, copying the way she swiveled her head back and forth watching for things that made the bile rise from his stomach to his throat.  She hadn’t wanted to take him with her.  Grandma had taught her to never involve normals in her world.  They couldn’t handle it.  They would end up dead and maybe take you with them.  Grandma was gone and so was mama.  She was the seer now and if she had left him he would already be dead.  The truck cranked first try.  She kept it in good condition, tank always full.  She stepped on the gas and they lurched forward.  As they turned the corner onto the gravel road, the truck rocked as the raspy metal on metal sound of something screamed in the night.  Adelyn punched it.  Chris looked grim as he spun his head around trying to get a look.  They heard the angry howl of loss as they sped off through the night.

Night wings 13

Sunday Scribblings #215 -Recipe

Okay, this isn’t really a recipe and I will post an actual one later. I thought it was past time for another Night Wings story. I would also like to take a moment to thank the bloggers at Sunday Scribblings for posting a prompt week after week.  It has taken me on the most surprising journey and introduced me to other bloggers prompt communities.  What a blessing it has been!

Kystel turned the pages carefully.  “Well it’s definitely not a cookbook!”

Emelia snickered.  Ralph frowned at her and touched Kystel’s hand.  “Look here!”  He turned to the middle of the book.

“But…the pages are blank!”  Kystel looked at him puzzled.

“It’s not finished.”  Ralph grinned.

Kystel turned back a few pages and found a drawing of a group of people crowded around a prostrate winged figure.  There was light all around them and she could make out details of their faces.  There was Emelia and Lolly, Ralph, Arkin, and Sloan.  In the midst was a girl with long brown hair streaming, wings extended and covering all of them.  Their translucence allowed light and shadow to show through but the light was concentrated on the face of the one on the ground.  “Ryall!  But how?”

“That wasn’t there yesterday.” Ralph looked triumphant.

Kystel looked back down at the book, turning the pages back.  There were diagrams of inventions and pictures of  a skinny guy working over them.  She found pictures of the pendent that Emelia now wore and poems and stories hand written.

“But how?  Or who?  Kystel knew she was sounding like an idiot.

“I don’t know.  Writing appears on the pages and it either shows something that has happened or points to something we should do.  I look at it every day to see if there is anything new.  This morning these pictures were there.”

“There is a name inside the cover.”  Kystel ran her fingers over the old fashioned writing.

“Simon.” Ralph said.  “I think he talks to us through the book.”

For more Night Wings Click Here

Wolf Moon Courage

Sunday Scribbling Courage #2 and One Word: Trial

That first night and for several nights after, Jae was sick and in so much pain.  Her leg burned as though it were on fire.  She remembered flashes of her mum crying and her da holding her still while Simon worked on her leg, putting awful smelling poultices on it.  He made her drink and they put wet cloths on her and her fever finally ran it’s course. She heard snatches of conversation but most of it just confused her.

“Do you think she will turn?”

“I don’t know.  She will live is the only thing I can know for now.  We will have to wait and see.”

“What will we do?”

“I will take care of her, no matter what happens.”

One morning she woke up and opened her eyes and saw the sun shining in the window.  “Are you hungry, child?”

“I…I think so.  How long have I been here?  Where are my mum and da?” Jae sat up, still a bit shaky.

“Breakfast is almost ready.  You are going to stay here for awhile until you get stronger.  Your mum will come see you though.  Here you are then.”  Simon set tea and bread on a tray and brought it to her.  She had never eaten in bed before.  “When you are through we will see about getting you up and outside.”

Jae liked Simon.  He took care of her leg and now that it was healing, he showed her how to take care of plants and taught her what was good to eat and what cured sickness.  He taught her about animals and all about everything in their valley.  Her mum and da came often.

One day they came and they ate out under the trees.  Jae played an instrument that Simon had taught her. Before they left, her mother turned and hugged her tight.  When she turned away again Jae was sure she was crying.

Simon was gathering some bread and cheese and a skin of water. “Where are we going?”

Simon smiled. “We are going up the mountain, to a special place.  When we get there, I have a story to tell you.  Get your cloak and your walking stick.  We will be gone all night.”

Jae’s leg still got tired sometimes so Simon had carved a walking stick for her and helped her decorate it with clay beads and some feathers.  “Is it very far?”

Simon held the door for her. “It is pretty far but we shall be there well before dark.  They followed the path that led out of the valley and then took a turn in a direction Jae had never been.  As they climbed, the air cooled and the vegetation became sparse.  They didn’t speak for awhile as the way was steep and rough.

“Let’s rest a moment.  How is your leg?”

“It’s a little stiff but I can keep up.” Jae grinned at him and he smiled back. He had grown to love her like a daughter and his heart was breaking.  He knew there was nothing he could do to stop what would happen, but he hoped he could help her through it.

“Look behind you.”  Simon’s eyes were aglow.  Jae turned and caught her breath.

“It’s so beautiful!.  They sat on a felled tree and Simon handed her the waterskin and broke the bread to share with her.  The sky was crimson and orange.  When they had eaten, Simon stood.  “We are almost there.”  He poured a little water on the ground and sprinkled a few crumbs around.  Jae watched him.  “We should always give thanks for what we have and what the earth gives us.”

Jae tore the few pieces of bread she had left and gently laid them on the tree.  “I am grateful for this place to rest.” She said.  Simon nodded and they continued on their way.  They had not climbed for long when they came to a clear flat place  There were tall evergreens shading all around the clearing and a cave nearly hidden in the side of the mountain.  “This is it.” Simon said.

“What is this place?”  Jae looked around and tried to peer into the cave.  “Are we going in there?”

“In a moment. First, let’s sit here a moment.  There were rocks at the edge of the clearing, worn smooth as though many had taken their rest there over the years.  The remains of a campfire could be seen in front of the cave.

“I have a story to tell you now and it will take courage to hear.  Do you think you have courage?”

Jae tilted her head to the side as she thought.  Simon never asked simple questions and she knew from experience he did not want quick answers. “I hope I do.  I don’t think anyone can know for sure until they are tested by trials.”

Simon smiled. “That is a very wise answer.  I want you to listen now.  You may be tested but know that no matter what, I will be with you.”

Jae shifted nervously in her seat.  This didn’t sound like a good story.  Simon asked her about the night the wolves chased her and her da.  He told her stories about people who had been bitten.  “Sometimes when a human has been bitten by a wolf, it changes them.  Before this night is over we will know if you are one of those.”

“Is that why I have stayed with you?”

“Your mum and da love you, but they would not be able to control you if you changed.  You could hurt them.”  Simon watched as she absorbed what he had told her.  She crossed her arms and stuck her chin out. “I would never hurt them.” She said.

“Not unless you were something other than yourself.  That’s why we have come here.  There are chains in the cave.”

She glanced nervously at the cave and then back at Simon.  “You mean to chain me up?”

“Only for this night. There will be a full moon and if you have been affected, we will know tonight.   I will be right here the whole time.”

“I can’t ever go home, can I?”  Simon’s heart broke for her.  She looked so small and scared.

“You will be able to live at home but you will have to come here when the moon is full.  I will come with you. I wish I could do more…” Simon’s voice trailed off.  He sighed and stood.  Let’s get a fire going and light a torch to take into the cave and I will get you settled.  Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”  Jae had heard stories of sheep being killed and once a child had been taken from there valley.  Would people know?  Would they be afraid of her? What if they wanted to hunt her down?  She helped Simon gather kindling and larger pieces of wood for the fire and soon it was blazing.  Simon tied a bunch of brush together and created a torch that he lit from the fire. Jae followed him into the cave.  There were chains attached to the back wall and she looked up at him and then squared her shoulders and walked over to the chains.  She positioned herself to match the location of the chain and Simon wrapped it around her and fastened it.  “How do you know this will be enough?” She felt a little silly asking that.  She was small but Simon had said she would be very strong if she changed.  Maybe this was all for nothing. Maybe the wolf that bit her was not infected.  “It’s going to be dark soon.  You better go out by the fire.  Will you talk to me some so I know you are still here?”

Simon placed his hand under her chin and bent to kiss her on the forehead. “Of course I will, daughter of my heart.”  Jae’s eyes filled with the tears she had been holding in.  She blinked hard and smiled defiantly.

“We shall see just how much courage I have, tonight!”

Simon smiled sadly.  “You have more courage than most men.  I am proud of you.”  He turned and walked out of the cave.  Jae watched him go and finally let the tears fall.

Out by the fire, Simon took the lute and a pipe from his pack.  He filled the pipe, talking as he did, about the valley and this mountain and how he had been here before.  He lit his pipe and while Jae could not see him, she was comforted by the familiar smell of tobacco.  As darkness fell she began to sweat though the night was cool.  The light from the flames outside flickered around the cave, throwing forbidding shadows all around the walls.  She was frightened and angry and hungry.

Outside, Simon had set some traps just out of the clearing and as he heard them spring, he went and found rabbits and squirrels.  He finished ringing the neck of one that didn’t die, but was badly injured.  He brought them to closer to the fire and now it was nearly full dark he sat down next to his lute.  He could hear moaning coming from the cave and knew it was beginning.  He shook his head sadly, not really surprised.  He had known from the time Jae had been brought to him that this would be the outcome, but he had planned for it.  He continued to speak to her, not sure she could understand anymore.

In the cave, Jae had felt as though her skin was too small and her bones felt like they must be breaking.  She let out a final scream that turned to a howl before it’s completion.

Simon called her name and got a growl for an answer.  He stood and threw some of the animal’s he had trapped into the cave, and quickly retreated.  he picked up the lute and began to play, singing songs he had taught Jae.  The growling subsided.

Jae smelled fire and meat and man and a million other things that she wanted to go investigate.  She threw herself at the chains and when she realized she could not get loose, began to howl.  The man smell, threw meat into the cave and she fell on it as though she had not eaten in weeks.  Hunger abated, she looked around, ready to begin howling again, when she heard the man.  The sound he was making, coupled with her full stomach, made her sleepy.  She curled up, tail tucked, and listened to Simon.  She would worry about getting out later.

Morning and Simon was still awake.  He had played and sang for much of the night, only stopping when he lost his voice.  In the stillness, he half expected to hear her again but she must have finally fallen asleep.  Simon pulled his cloak around him and slept for a little while.

More Wolf Moon Stories can be found here


Sunday Scribbling prompt: Courage

they show up when
you least expect them
you flip on a light and
jump back in terror then
can’t help but imagine
darkness and shadow and
corner and behind and way
on the down low
they wait till I walk in the room
with no shoes on
give shivers and quivers
and trembles and shakes on
they know how to hide
and just when to jump out
my shoe is too little and what
if I miss or make all
eight legs angry and what
if they jump or instead
of a squish I hear a loud hiss
as they turn to run at me
with tiny teeth gnashing and
ready to bite or at least
crawl up my pant leg
hide out in a pocket
creeping up
to my ear drum
and into my brain
or climb up a drain when I
soak in the bathtub there
is no escaping they are
skittering and scraping
I’m doomed in my room in
the yard in the basement
oh what if they find me
please do remind me how
I am much bigger and stronger
and I will live longer if
I just have courage and
lots of big shoes that
I can choose to throw and stomp
and smash and romp
squash and mash the
little spider hiding under
beds and rugs and kitchen counters
and oh I don’t know could
you just would you please
kill that eight legged beast
for scaredy cat me

photo :

Mountain and Valley

I am working on a story but it has a mind of it’s own and wants to wait.  Paschal mentioned Pando in a post (a clonal colony of a single male Quaking Aspen in Utah, connected by one massive underground root system). Next I read a quote on zen and reverence on about breathing in and out – greeting and acceptance and the prompt on Writers Island was Message. Connections, intentions, commonality, all on my mind so I hope this will count as an Event.

You would think
Just glancing at us of course
That we are nothing alike
My eyes are smaller than brown
Yours huge as the sky
My mouth, plain, unsmiling

I don’t live here, never did
But you and yours are all up and
Down this valley
I worship on the hilltop
You dance in your glen

I inhale the scent of honeysuckle
Fanned by the robin’s wings
He flew in this morning from
His rambles in the valley
Where you sighed at the sunrise beauty

Over the apple trees that rooted
In rain washed soil from the mountain
That once bore the footprint of my mother
Feet bared, wriggling in cool mud
Through branches where your children climb

Then and now and time to come
Witness borne by earth and sky
Tendrils of all life enfold the roots and
Seeds of lives entwined the message
Carried forth on foot, by sigh

What To Do With Onions

There is a weird new kind of spam showing up – duplicates of comments already made but from weird various places.  WordPress is doing it’s best to keep them at a minimum but I am also having to go in and delete manually.  Just a heads up to the rest of you bloggers – I don’t think it is just me.

Sunday Scribblings 212 prompt is Dinner and Murat11‘s kiddos are riffing off Vivien Shipley’s “What To Do About Sharks” and Gertrude Stein’s Tender Buttons and somehow that landed me with this

chop the scallions scamps rapscallions
gallons and gallons
we shop and hop and chop the scallions
scampering in the scandalous stalls of markets
old women baskets and shawls
chop and dice and peel and rice
clean the mess the test of
kitchens smidgeons of pidgeons breasts
stuffed with the scallions
scalded scantily clad and wrapped
in scallions, garlic and sage
and scalded chopped and sliced and diced
for nineteen ninety nine its
yours and knives to cut and fill
your gut but wait there’s
just a touch of lemon takes
the smell away the shell
the skin this onion
has many layers

Night Wings: Lolly and Sloan

Sunday Scribbling #211 Wonder

He’d been drinking all day.  Saturdays were the worst. Lolly closed her book and felt the familiar tightening of her stomach.  He had been banging and slamming around  the kitchen for a few minutes.  That was never a good sign.  He wasn’t like this when mama was alive.  Lolly sighed and stuck a pillow over her head.

Please Sloan, stay out his way today.

“Sloan!” He yelled.

Aw crap.  She held the pillow tighter.

Now what?.  Why can’t he just leave him alone.  Take his beer and go sit in front of the television and go to sleep.

Sloan didn’t answer.  It didn’t matter.  If he answered he would tell him to come to the kitchen.  If he didn’t answer he would just go after him.  Either way it would end up the same.  She threw the pillow on the floor and scooted up into the corner of the bed, arms clasped around her legs, chin resting on her knees.  She was too thin with a pointed chin and eyes too large for her face.  She hated her hair.  On good days it was just curly but drizzly days like today it frizzed out like a cloud around her head.  She scrunched her eyes closed tightly and willed her father away from Sloan.  No good.

She heard her brothers’ door slam open and her father roar “Don’t you hear me calling you, boy?”

“Yes sir.” Sloan answered in a small voice.

“Guess you think you’re smart hiding in here when I need you.  You come when I call you!  Take the trash out, you useless little jerk!”

“Yes sir.” Sloan said again.

Please, please, please, please.  She kept repeating to herself, a litany of hope. It never worked but she couldn’t help thinking that the one time she didn’t say it, would be the one time it would have worked.

She heard a thud and her brother cried out.  It had happened often enough that she could picture it. A tear squeezed out and she put her hands over her ears, scissoring her legs, crumpling up the bed clothes.  He never came for her and she felt so bad.  Sloan told her not to be stupid that she should be thankful.  He said he was glad and that made it seem worse.

She rocked back and forth still hearing the sounds of him hitting Sloan, her brother grunting in pain.  Suddenly she really could see it.  She was there with him!  How could that be?  Oh my God, he’s going to hit us again!


“Shhh Sloan, he’ll hear us!”  The hand came at him again and he landed on the floor at the end of the hall.

“Stay down, Sloan.  Just stay down.”

“Lolly, how?”

“I don’t know but I’m here.  Just keep listening, I’ll stay with you.”

It’s okay Lolly, but I’m glad you’re here.”

Their father lumbered off to the living room.  “Do you think he’ll stay gone now?”

“Yeah. He’ll fall asleep in his chair now.” Sloan sat up, moving limbs to make sure nothing was broken.

“Do you think you can get up?”

“I think so. Ouch!”

“I’m so sorry, Sloan. Come to my room.”

Lolly jumped off the bed and met him at the door.  She closed it quietly and threw her arms around her brother hugging him gently.  She stood back and they both looked at each other wide eyed.

“What just happened?”  They stared at each other in wonder.

“Sit here and I’ll get you some ice.” Sloan’s eye was already puffing up.  It was going to be a mess.

“Be careful, don’t wake him up.  It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

Lolly waved him off and slipped out the door to the kitchen.  She grabbed a towel from the rack by the sink and eased the freezer door open.  Dishes were piled in the sink and the trash can was overflowing with beer cans.  Not much food in the house but there was always plenty of beer.  She scooped some ice into the towel and silently shut the freezer door, tiptoed past the living room where he was slumped in his ratty arm chair that was threadbare and leaking stuffing. He was snoring now, tv flashing shadows around the dingy room,  volume on low.

She slipped back in her room and put the ice-filled towel on Sloan’s eye. “Hold that.”

“So want to try it again?”

Sloan nodded.  “How do we start?”

Lolly grabbed up a stuffed rabbit and hugged it to her.  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know how we did it the first time.”

“Well, try closing your eyes and thinking about something.” Sloan moved the ice pack and winced.

Lolly closed her eyes.

“You know I hate math.”

Lolly opened her eyes and grinned.  “So you haven’t done your homework yet?”

“No and maybe this will be a great time to try this out.  You can help me through the quiz tomorrow.”

“Sloan, what are we going to do?  It gets worse every time.  He’s going to really hurt you one of these times.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.  I think I’m gonna have to leave.”

“If you think I’m letting you leave by yourself Sloan, you’ve taken one too may hits to the head!” Lolly crossed her arms and glared at her brother.

“He doesn’t bother you.  I don’t know where I’m going.  I can’t take you with me.”

Lolly stuck her chin out.  “You don’t know what will happen if you leave me here alone with him. I’m scared of him.  I might never see you again!”  Her lip quivered a bit at the last.  Sloan knew if he was going to get away without her he would have to sneak out and carefully or she would catch him.

“That’s not going to happen!”  Sloan jerked his head up,  “No, you didn’t say it out loud, but that doesn’t matter anymore does it? I’d rather take my chances with you

Sloan groaned.  “Fine.  But if we are both going to go, we’re going to have to come up with a plan.  I don’t think we’ll have to worry about him. He probably won’t even know we’re gone until he sobers up.”

“How’s your eye?”

“Why are you asking? You already know.”

“I do, but we are going to have to keep in the habit of talking unless we want to be labeled freaks.”  Lolly grinned and nodded and pulled the chessboard out from under the bed.  They’d been playing since they were twelve but this was going to be a whole new game.

To read More Night Wings

Night Wings 12 Trouble

Sunday Scribbling 210: deadline

This takes place right after a meeting where we are introduced to Ryall’s father and a little back story in Night Wings part 8

After the meeting Thomas smirked at Joshua.  “You aren’t fooling me.  I know your son is one of them. You got a soft spot in your heart for them kids?”

Joshua stiffened.   “You accusing me of something?” He locked eyes with Thomas, tension in every muscle.

Thomas smiled and held his hands up. “Should I be?  All this talk about citizens just caring about their own lives.  Seems to me like you were just changing the subject.  You ever hear from that boy of yours?”

Joshua shook his head.  “Be careful Thomas.  You are coming dangerously close to crossing a line. If you had proof of anything, we wouldn’t be standing here talking.”

“You’re right. I don’t have proof of anything.  Yet.”  He turned on his heel and walked out the door of the conference room.

Once out in the hall, Thomas waved Sam Toland over.  “Hey Sam, how’s it going?  How about going for a cup a coffee?” He clapped Sam on the shoulder.

Sam  turned to Thomas, startled. “Gee Thomas, I don’t know.  My wife will have supper waiting.”

Thomas put his arm around him and pulled him along. “Just one cup and a little chat.  You’ll be home by the time the table is set.”

Thomas found them a booth in the back and ordered coffee from the waitress. “Thanks honey, now go on if you want a tip.”  He winked at her and turned back to Sam without noticing her rolling her eyes as she turned away.  “Now let me see, Oh yeah, you voted for Joshua in the last election, didn’t you?”

Sam stirred cream into his coffee.  “You know our vote is private, Thomas.  Why are you asking?”

Thomas was spooning sugar into his own cup.  He stirred and took a sip.  “I just wondered if you have noticed how Joshua never wants to discuss the “reborns” problem.”

Sam set his cup down. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.’

Thomas leaned back against the vinyl seat. “Easy there, Sam.  I’m not getting at anything.  Just making an observation.”

Sam frowned and scratched his head. “Look, I haven’t really noticed anything and this makes me a little nervous.  Joshua has never done anything to make me doubt him.”

Thomas patted Sam’s hand with his own big paw.  “Hey, no big deal.  I was just wondering.  Just forget I said anything.  Tell you what.  You get on home to the wife and I’ll get this.  Say hello to Helen for me.”

Sam nodded and grabbed his hat and left.

Thomas left exact change for the coffee on the table and left the shop. He whistled as he strolled down the street, thinking and planning.  No use making a frontal attack when you can just plant a few seeds of doubt.  He smiled to himself.  Those kids could be useful if we could figure out ways to control them.  First step, get Joshua out of power.  No deadline here.  He could bide his time.

You can read more on the Night wings page

This weeks class was all about dialogue and using attributes and “beats”.  Fun stuff.