-
In homage to the forestIts heavy shadowsDeep and darkGreener than green,even when the sun is brightand the begonias bloom deep red.Bits of grass, spindly and fine, grow around the river of moss in dotsLike cattails before they’re cutThe bells of the foxglove ring and ring and ringWhen the air moves soft electric Blue Morning glories
-
I’m learning what will grow, and what will grow successfully.
-
Her leopard, high heeled mules sure footed in the gravel.
-
Of course there was glitter.
-
It looked like somebody made wedding bouquets and needed my blue and white bloomers.
-
The sound started there
-
Doesn’t my interpretation of the painting count? Isn’t it supposed to be a hanging Rorshact test?
-
I ran away from home a couple of times. Once after college I went to Texas for no good reason. The last time with a man to England, half an hour from Stonehenge. We had to get married. I was pregnant. I won’t do that again. I came back. I am the same person I
-
The crowd-in-a-box jerked into silence when the shrill squeal pierced their ears.
-
Purple stuff
Since I started teaching I’ve undergone many changes. I still have a real honest to God chalk board in my classroom instead of the standard white board these days. The way I copy papers has changed significantly over the years. I started with the purple stuff. I would get so frustrated trying to type tests Read more
-
Junebug’s Dinner
“I feel like my head’s in a jar underwater,” said Junebug to no one at all as she burnt the last of the fried chicken. She couldn’t fry chicken any better than she could make biscuits. Her gravy and mashed potatoes were to die for though. The whole stick of butter and heavy cream she Read more
-
Haiku in Winter
The whittling down of a grandiloquent tale to seventeen syllables. Getting the juice from it to its purist form wrings the neck of a piece of writing so tight that all that’s left is the essence of its meaning, a haiku. Five seven five. The dear sweet poems of eternity. Pictures in pure form Whittled Read more
-
The Fishing Village
Image generated with AI. I’ve never been to a fishing village in Scotland. I don’t care about cities and tourism. The small town misty cold draws me. I want to walk out on a rocky shore to hear the waves crash and redden my cheeks with cold as long as I can stand the grey Read more
-
Story Published!
Thank you, Nolcha Fox and Chewers and Masticadores! Beatrice Entombed Millard watched the undertakers close the drawer that held Beatrice’s casket, and waited until everyone left the cemetery. A dusty brown cloud followed a parade of black limousines crawling their way up the side of a mountain to the main road. The last thing he Read more
-
Predictable Rant
It’s time to get more aggressive about the life that I want. I’ve already decided what life I don’t want. I decided years ago that I wanted out of teaching. Retirement is within my reach. I called the retirement board and found that I was eligible for retirement six years ago, but it was financially Read more
-
In homage to the forestIts heavy shadowsDeep and darkGreener than green,even when the sun is brightand the begonias bloom deep red.Bits of grass, spindly and fine, grow around the river of moss in dotsLike cattails before they’re cutThe bells of the foxglove ring and ring and ringWhen the air moves soft electric Blue Morning glories
-
I’m learning what will grow, and what will grow successfully.
-
Her leopard, high heeled mules sure footed in the gravel.
-
Of course there was glitter.
-
It looked like somebody made wedding bouquets and needed my blue and white bloomers.
-
The sound started there
-
Doesn’t my interpretation of the painting count? Isn’t it supposed to be a hanging Rorshact test?
-
I ran away from home a couple of times. Once after college I went to Texas for no good reason. The last time with a man to England, half an hour from Stonehenge. We had to get married. I was pregnant. I won’t do that again. I came back. I am the same person I
-
The crowd-in-a-box jerked into silence when the shrill squeal pierced their ears.
-
Sanctuary
All day I will talk nonsense. I will repeat a paragraph eight times in a day. I will point out its main idea, drag it out, make people paste it in a book, and read it back to me. I will pass out little pieces of paper with vocabulary words on them and glue bottles,…
-
Morning Curtain
Snow laden limbs are replaced by blossoms falling to earth and flowers push up from underneath. Early snowdrops and daffodils show off their color peek from recent fresh green. Wet brown earth gives way to the promise of gardens, of deep green shadows and tomatoes Something more than squirrels digging through dried leaves. The smell…
-
The Road Trip
The road trip was a mindset. It required no preparation or preparation of all things, especially the house before the departure. After I took care of the laundry, the cats, the mess, and the packing, I was ready to roll down the road. Time was not of the essence on a road trip. Stops were…
-
Let’s Call it Art
“That painting on the wall is askew and is about to fall down on the fragile candy dish on top of the buffet. Between the shards of glass that escape and the bits of sweets that scatter, it will never be safe to go barefoot in the house again. Move the damned painting,” He said.…
Devonne Brown 