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Postmeridian Cynosure Reflected in Morning Light

Pink clouds reflect morning sunrise
Above the mountain purple skies
Reaching to touch the morning star
A black ribbon afar
Space touches the planet breath
Then exhaling the night’s death

We stir and sigh, the dreaming over
Yet not wanting to rise, we turnover

The morning light proclaims red skies take warning
With a hint of moisture and storming
Still the afternoon sun burns away the clouds
To leave behind sticky shrouds
Of summer’s blanketing heat
The angry sun replete

We whir and sigh, the workday over
Longing to chase our postmeridian cynosure

Waiting for buses and subways
To take us to down highways
While thunder claps and storms gather
Wringing moisture into a lather
Flinging down hail and rain
We feel electricity in a vein

We dance and cry, the thunderstorm over
Shaking off raindrops, no need to take cover.


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A Loud Banging Drum

She heard a loud drum beating a muffled beat above her head and she felt the mallet strike the soft spot on the crown. She tried to reach it, but the drum seemed so far away. Then she awoke. A water drop splashed a puddle over her eyes. She tried to wipe away the water but her hands were stuck below her.

She panicked and kicked her legs. They failed to touch bottom and she realized she was dangling in a hole with her arms below her wedged into the rock. She was helpless and alone in the dark. Her helmet was behind her head. She must have fallen somehow. The moment she didn’t remember.

She screamed for help. Her voice echoed against the walls of her prison until it faded. No light reached her. The lantern on her helmet started to flicker and went out. She now hung in the dark, the water dripping in a slow rhythm. She closed her eyes. The loud banging drum returned.


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Smooth as Silk

Preacher Ashton delivered the scripture from Isaiah in a hushed whisper and ended it with a thunder clap. Mom shook her head in agreement while I hung on every word. Aunt Margaret said the preacher was smooth as silk, but I just thought he spoke from the heart.

Mom shook her head again and slapped down her fan on the pew back. I held on to the words until Aunt Margaret said “Amen.” Then we flipped through the hymnal and sang “What a friend we have in Jesus” and Tom Clatcher started swaying in rhythm with the choir. He rocked and clapped and Sister Josephina joined in and everyone swayed back and forth. Mom stood up and pulled me up too. We stood in the pew singing with the choir and shouting out “Amen” at the end of the hymn.

I walked out of the chapel feeling happy and uplifted. Preacher Ashton took my hand and squeezed it gently. Mom pushed me toward him. He winked. I blushed and looked away. Aunt Margaret tuned up the corner of her mouth and shook her head. She turned and walked down the sidewalk. Mom and me followed Aunt Margaret. I turned back to Preacher Ashton. He smugly smiled and winked again.


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Fall Back Before Sleep

The sun slowly filled the room with light. He stretched, yawned, and viewed the yard through the window. On the street young moms hugged their children and then sent them up the bus ramp. The bus ramp! No, no, no! He fumbled around for his glasses and grabbed his watch. He laid back on the pillow and vented. Overslept again!

Typically, the alarm went off before the sun rose over the mountain. Unless, the alarm failed to go off. Now was when he should be leaving the house. Now was not the time for a shower. He considered leaving without one then he remembered his big meeting. He would just have to be late.

The commute took longer than usual; one of the reasons he woke most mornings before the sun rose. Stop and start. He nearly sloshed his coffee when the car leading him stopped suddenly. Damn! He made the lot just in time to sprint to the office.

“Sorry, I’m late. Overslept,” he mumbled as he dove into his seat in the conference room. “No worries mate,” a voice from the videoconference interrupted his thoughts. “Time changed overnight. We still have an hour for the meeting.”

“Great.”


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The Red Tin Flowers

The bees found the red nectar first sucking their fill from the tin flowers. The ruby-throated hummingbird flitted from one tin to the other seeking an opening. The turbulence from his wings opened up a slot. He dove in taking his turn until the bees came back.


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FREE! Cindy’s Sin Kindle E-Book

cindy's sin free ebookIt’s FREE! I said FREE! For a limited time. Download it now! Hurry! Cindy’s Sin Free Ebook

That’s right, you heard it first folks, my premier novella on Kindle Cindy’s Sin, and my first foray into self-publishing, is now FREE as a download on Kindle until Saturday (7/28/18). I just ask for a review if you enjoyed it, and a review if you found it lacking. Review help me improve. So, pile on!


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On a Sandbar, War.

On a sandbar, Francois planted the flag to claim the island for France. Across the bay, Frances planted the flag to claim the island for England. Seeing this, both sides immediately grabbed their muskets. War was preordained, yet Franco of Spain had already claimed it.


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