He threw a handful of seeds in the air and, with a popping cracking splitting sound, from each seed flew a butterfly, crimson or golden or blue. The children’s eyes widened as butterflies landed on their heads and shoulders. “Remember this beauty forever,” he said. ‘Forever.’
Red sky all night
red sky
all night
the world ends
begins again
last night
sky cries
Last petals falling
birds rise as one, calling to comrades
low sun flickers on flowers and wingtips
Your hands often shake now
Your hands often shake now
Mine too when I seek to calm you
Holding on is all that remains
I had a playlist
I had a playlist
a playlist for life
until that moment late last night
when you shuffled me
Wind-kicked leaves
Wind-kicked leaves, red and golden, drift slowly down to autumn bed. The sinking sun touches horizon trees, is laced with branches and leaves us, leaves us a fire-shot sky of evening.
The houses call us – no, not the houses, home, the shelter. Hand in hand, our backs to the dying in the distance, we fade away to deeper darkness.
Dice tumble
Dice tumble, bone white
Will she ask me this time, or?
Do I want her to?
Dangerous thinking
Dangerous thinking
Waterfall rainbow-splits light
Dragonflies dancing
I sit beside you
I sit beside you
Your hair curtains your profile
My heart, mind, races
Dead People’s Stuff For Sale
I was happy when the furniture went, and the dusty, cracked ornaments. But I broke down when that guy bought mother’s false leg and teeth.
(Prompt from @CreativeReview)
