For The Sunday Muse Prompt #82.
in their noon day
repose, strength hides
within their supple limbs,
the power of the one –
unfettered in its reach –
melded to the quiet guile
of the other; together –
a Whole stronger than its parts –
freely, wildly going.
For The Sunday Muse prompt, Night Sky
The starlight sprinkled
like tiny slivers of silver
splashed against a dark canvas
peels back the curtain
on a tumultuous past-
birth, death, dust clouds swirling,
mists of primordial molecules
accreting, then Becoming –
a message to the future from the past
echoing down the aeons like a strummed string.
I was here before you were; before
your father was, and his father’s father too
Now you see me as I was. Ponder.
For Wordle 381:
Last night they gathered with intent, forty-eight memos a lingering stench that could no longer be shrugged away. Behind the bluster of “doing the right thing” was the lure of the keys to Number 10.
When the frame is badly broken can the picture be restored? Is the crime of lying words so great that everything is irretrievably broken and no longer of use? Inside, the Wounded lived to fight another day; outside the circling hyenas beaten back for a season will return.