Waterfront Frolic
Come play with me
where sky and earth
meet clouds and sea
and moss drapes
the branches
while we can wander
along rocky beaches
and skip stones
over cold ripples
while our noses
turn red and cold
and a chill breeze
whispers
through the trees
Prompt: Draw up to three cards and use them to tell us a story of getting lost in a wild place such as a forest, swamp, etc.
He had spent his entire life carving out his little piece of heaven out of the wet clutches of the heart of the swamp. Moisture and mildew clung to every thing, it ate away at everything, and the small shack with attached pier he’d built needed constant work and upkeep in order to keep it from being yield over to the swamps voracious appetites. (Seven of Pentacles)
As he got older, he found that some days were better than others, and he had to plan his work on the small shack and pier carefully to make sure that he didn’t overtax himself in the process. (Wheel of Fortune)
When the waters began to rise in the spring rains this year, he was ready as always… or he thought that he was. He’d taken care to make sure that the planks of the pier were sturdy and the items in the shack were all on risers to give a few extra inches clearance in case the waters rose that high. As with each year, he looked at his place with new eyes as he shored it up for the coming weather and high waters. (Ace of Wands)
But what he didn’t anticipate was the shifting ground beneath his home stirred up by water’s currents.
It happened in the middle of the night, when the water rose to wash over the slates of the pier and ripple under the door of his shack, while the man slept on his bed set on risers. There was a long, low groan from the shack as the supports began to shift, and a shuddered moan of wood and rope and nails pulling free.
He awoke with a start as the shack began to come apart, not collapsing or crumbling, but falling apart as if every nail that held the place together were simply and suddenly gone, and as he rose from the bed and ran out of the shack, the shack and pier beneath his feet crumbled into the water… and he was pulled down into the depths with it.
And as the swamp then quieted and stilled, it was as if the old man and his shack and small pier were never there, for all had been swallowed by the wild he had fought to keep at bay for so long. (Three of Swords)
Play Time
A game of chase
and hopping rocks
as laughter
fills chill air
to caress the ears
in sounds of joy
as what was once
a game of tag
becomes
hide and seek
and the little cheat
bounds between rocks
into spaces too small
for me to follow
Just A Little More
Day’s end comes
with sinking sun
and as light dies
time to sleep
arrives
but I don’t
want it to end
lets play
a little longer
as greedily
I seek
just a little more time
with you
I Am The Evergreen
Porcupine quills
should hurt
but in the
winter cold
the prick of needles
is only
a touch of pressure
upon the skin
I am brittle
but strong
and I will
continue to grow
thrive and survive
The Welcome Wet
Wet wood
soft underfoot
leads the way
through towering trees
draped in moss
and
bare reaching arms
of leafless brush
tangle to conceal
the flowing trickle
of water below
Don’t bounce
or you might fall thru
