My Craft

My Life Soon Ends

[aesop_image imgwidth=”825px” img=”http://wordsmithholler.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/mars-image.png” align=”left” lightbox=”on” caption=”Pixabay” captionposition=”left” revealfx=”off”] Sunrise bounced through our plastic dome inching closer to my eyes on the pillow. I looked at the divergence of yellow and red light flaring through the bubble and then across the room. The sixth day of Shepard seemed it would shape up as a typical butterscotch day. I saw the sun’s reflection on the large dome of MaxPol. The sun woke me everyday, but the reflection wasn’t…

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Poetry

The Moment a Heartbeat Shifts Trice

[aesop_image imgwidth=”850px” img=”http://wordsmithholler.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/3054775751_411ebc3ea7_o.jpg” credit=”Michael S. Sommermeyer” align=”left” lightbox=”on” captionposition=”left” revealfx=”off”] Snow dusting the crest of Mount Tom, Patches of orange and brown balm, Cold air smell of jet metal-cased gneiss, The moment a heartbeat shifts trice. Clouds roll over the summit peak, Dark anger of winter mystique, A chill of slushy snow and ice, The moment a heartbeat shifts trice. Skew angle of silvery rock, Makes way for a white aftershock, Of wind breath’s plunging sacrifice, The moment a…

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My Craft

A Moment of Pure Truth

Christopher stood over the maze of workday and eyed the sea. A thin fog cloud floated passed his perch on the 45th floor. On the docks, sea lions barked at tourists. East Bay traffic sought a faster path, ships hauled electronics in and almonds back out, and the blood-red sun sunk into late afternoon north of the Golden Gate. In the conference room, five people sat in executive chairs around a table. Their faces reflected…

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