a trace left behind
the memory’s taste still sweet
my lipstick lover

Determined to spend at least five minutes not thinking about … all of it!
Thanks to my always dependable inspirations
and
Writer. Feminist. Historian. Person.
a trace left behind
the memory’s taste still sweet
my lipstick lover

Determined to spend at least five minutes not thinking about … all of it!
Thanks to my always dependable inspirations
and
in danger of hope
we resolve not to question
the dream of all dreams

I live in Florida, so if you live in the States (or follow American politics) then you’ll understand my mood this morning. Careening between anger and despair. Trying to find hope by either looking closer to home (I’m proud of my community) or beyond the confines of this ridiculously racist state as a whole. But it’s tough.
Was I stupid to be hopeful?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thanks to following for their photo and word inspiration even if everything was filtered through my dark mood!
Sue Vincent’s Wrote Photo Challenge
Burning blue
So hot I am almost translucent
But I want to be …
Unseen
Impalpable
Concealed
Hidden from eyes that watch
Obscured from those that see.
Invisible
Consumed

Today’s Writing Origin Story:
Procrastinating from the work I am supposed to be doing, I turned to my Word Press Reader. No intentions of blog writing. I have stuff I NEED to do! Deadlines. I’m just taking a short break to read some other people’s stuff. So I’m reading and I see that Sammi Scribbles prompt this weekend is TRANSLUCENT. I love that word. The way it feels in my mouth and mind. But I am NOT writing for my blog today. Things to do!
But …maybe I’ll just see what this weekend’s SoCs prompt is. No harm in that. Oh no. It’s a fun one!
Open a book on your lap, close your eyes, and put your finger on the page. Whatever you land on, whether it be a word, a phrase, or a sentence, write about it. Enjoy!
So–you know, just to see what it would be–I pick up the book on the top of my “to read” pile: Postcards by E. Annie Proulx (recently purchased at a used book store) and point. I land on this sentence: “Jewell was the one afraid of accidents and fire, had seen her father’s barns burn down ….” (page 36 in 1992 paperback version).
And instantly my brain connected translucent and burn and the prose/poem thingy (above) is what emerged. Can’t decide if I like it. Can’t decide if I’m trying to tell myself something! Perhaps it’s connected to my angst over the coming election. I don’t know.
But here it is.
Now. I am going back to work.
Probably.

Yesterday, Pure Haiku posted another one of my pieces. It may be (a bit?) dark, but I’m (a bit!) happy and proud.
It’s a great site if you dig haiku as much as I do! So check them (and my little piece) out by clicking here: Pure Haiku

Dropping to My Knees
To Sow Seeds of Solitude
The Dry Earth Makes Way

Writing Inspired By FOWC and Scotts Daily Prompt and Putting My Feet in the Dirt