A layer of rust-colored needles covered the path and she stepped along softly, inhaling deeply what nature exhaled. The air was sweet with blossom, and birds flit about the tree branches above. A slightly envious thought welled up in her heart as she watched a bluebird fly off. She thought of Henry David Thoreau. He’d written a poem about bluebirds, but he was at his best in prose.
“The bluebird carries the sky upon his back.” It was much quoted among lovers of everything poetic and green, and everything Thoreau.
It was her daily walk of inspiration in the Poet’s Preserve. She paused at a small white pine and felt the soft, delicate, fur-like cluster of needles. She had read somewhere that the white pine was Thoreau’s favorite tree. It was certainly a useful tree, growing alongside other saplings in tight clusters, providing an extra barrier of security if grown along a fence. But it was also highly flammable, making its dry branches and twigs ideal for kindling. Thoreau no doubt used the white pine for kindling when he started the fire that accidentally burned the woods near Concord, Massachusetts. …
Now available on Amazon! A collection of poetry I’ve posted on Medium from the beginning. Available as ebook and now available in paperback. Many thanks to all of the support I’ve received from Medium friends.
Beginning in December, you will no longer see a little green circle orbiting about my profile picture, which means of course, that you will not be paid when I read your work.
As a semi-retired senior, I have had to make some decisions about my life going forward and a Medium membership in my budget is no longer feasible. There was a time when being a part of the partnership program would at least cover the cost of my yearly membership, but things change and we have to flow.
Remaining in the program or even writing at all on Medium is a decision I have yet to make, but I wanted you to be the first to know that I will be hitting that cancel button on November 30. I will definitely continue to read Medium when I can and make photographs and paint, and if I continue writing it will be exclusive to The Junction and Lit Up only. …
The sun was a flat disc against the sky — orange, sharp at the edges, without dimension. It took on a glow only as the earth moved forward and dipped into the light of morning. He pulled down the bill of his camouflage hat and scanned the furrows between the rows of harvested corn more intently, as the smallest of rocks and balls of dirt cast shadows. There was a particular shadow he was looking for, one cast by a finely chiseled point jutting from beneath the earth.
In another world, golden light shone upon a lone fawn emerging from a dark forest and into a small field of ripe squash. She was hit cleanly and swiftly with the arrow and fell without sound. …
This is the last of my Halloween gathering. I never realized just how much I actually love horror and mystery until I began digging through my graveyard of writings. Please enjoy your Hallow’s Eve this year and be safe for your readers.
A second gathering of creepy Autumn tales and poems from my crypt!
Thank you for your time!
Part One here —
I’ve gathered up my Halloween poetry and fiction to present in two parts — may the harvest season find you prepared for the coming winter. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for taking a look!
Thank you for your support!