Bridle Ways – A Poem

Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.  So grateful to PJ for hosting this weekly challenge. This week’s photo prompt is provided by J.S. Brand. Thank you J.S. for our photo prompt!

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Here is the photograph and my story/poem…

Bridle Ways – A Poem

It was nigh 50 years ago
if I properly remember
at all
that long ago

not only being so young
but the climbing laid ahead
and the marker
placed near the start
and all those
young hot love stepping stones
we skipped up upon back then
in all their verdancy
each lush
with a tease of beyond
life’s measure

on up until now
nigh 50 years ago
or so
it’s told
if one is counting.

Ellespeth

 

You. Want. To. Do. WHAT?

Ellespeth Visits The Orthopedic Doctor…

Just another follow-up to my recovery process from a fall on 2/7.

yes, that’s right…earlier this week…when I must have been having a totally stupid moment:

Doc:  I see, from the way you are moving that your knee is bothering you.

Me:  Yes.  It’s still giving out on me and swelling and it takes me 10 minutes to get out of bed in the morning.  But I think it’s getting better.

Doc:  Let’s have a look at that.

Me:  Okay but no touching it.

Doc:  Oh my, it’s swollen.  That’s why it’s hurting you.  I’d like to give you a shot of cortisone right into your knee….

Me:  Cough.  Gag.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t hear that last part.  The first part nauseated me.  Did you say you want to give me a shot in my knee what?

Doc:  well he speaks medical mumbo jumbo that boils down to he wants to put an effin needle into my knee.  Not once, but twice.  Once to numb it and once to inject the cortisone.

Me:  I look frantically at David…he’s my husband…he’s somewhat more scientific than I am.  “I don’t think I wanna do this, David.”

David to Me:  Well he sees how your knee looks all swollen and he thinks this will make it feel better.

Doc:  It works for a lot of people.  I’ll numb the area all up and it won’t hurt too much.

There I am –  a poet sitting in a medical office with an MD and a Ph.D. trying to figure my way out of this and slowly realizing that somehow or another this was going to end painfully for me.

Which it did, initially.  Today, two days later…my knee isn’t swollen.  It doesn’t hurt.  It’s still weak after 10 minutes or so but…WOW!  And it will keep getting better until the med is all in there good and then the benefit could last several months!  That’s fabulous!

This has been my first pain-free day since 2/7!  I’d do a little Cajun Gig but I don’t want to – you know – put the voodoo on myself.

Yay and Laterz!

Ellespeth   ♥

At The Poetry Reading – Fiction

Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.  So grateful to PJ for hosting this weekly challenge. This week’s photo prompt is provided by Kecia Spartin. Thank you,  Kecia!  What a great photograph!

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Here is the photograph and my story…Sometimes life beats fiction.:

At The Poetry Reading

It was Autumn. She was sitting, with her lover, under a tree ripe with sweetness. He was reading. She was writing.

After a long while of silence, he asked her, “What are you writing?”

“Oh, just some poem I thought of while we were having dinner and discussing flying model airplanes and fishing,” she replied.  “Wanna hear it?”

“OK.”

She cleared her throat and spurt the words out – yet carefully, because each word seemed important to her at that moment:

 

Hunting & Gathering

Hunters are men gathered in silence
to protect
to feed
to survive
and fix
to love in those ways
their women

Women are gatherers
chattering their way
through hopeful foraging
to give life
to feed
to nourish bonds
to introduce laughter
to love in those ways
their men.

“So what do you think?” she asked.

“I don’t understand it,” he replied. “But then, I don’t understand much poetry.”

“Gimme kiss.  Gimme kiss,”  she hissed.

Ellespeth   

 

What We Don’t Remember – Fiction

Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.  So grateful to PJ for hosting this weekly challenge. This week’s photo prompt is provided by Mark with @any1mark66. Thank you,  Mark!

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Here is the photograph and my story:

What We Don’t Remember

“Cindy.”  The Inspector smiled at me. Perhaps he was expecting a smile in return – one I did not give him. “Thank you for waiting,” he said.

And well he should be thankful, too. I’d waited, as he’d asked, for 10 minutes in a room with no windows, colored in hues of beige and a slightly darker beige.

I was tired from the day trip my senior group had taken. We’d stopped at one of those road stop places. The sort that sells saltwater taffy and carved statues of local wildlife. This particular one had a lime green alien statue welcoming visitors to the shop.

“Is there anything else you remember about the child?” the inspector asked me.  Apparently, a child had gone missing about the same time our senior van arrived at the road stop.

And that’s when I started crying. I wanted to remember, but I couldn’t.

Ellespeth

A Discovery In The Middle Of The Night – Diary Entry

Image result for depression

A Discovery In The Middle Of The Night

This is an update on my Feb 7 fall and broken right side of body injury. It is a Vente Vent. Unless you want to know me better, you are allowed not to read this.

I’ve laid awake – most nights lately – trying to visualize a way I can use my laptop and continue my blogging and:
1) Not have my wrist touch anything hard and/or not soft around the edges
2) Not have my elbow touch anything hard
3) Align my back so that it is comfortable with this
4) Be sure the arm spread and the back thing align
5) Keep my right leg elevated above my heart

Hahaha! Piece of cake. I’ve cheated on the elevation part but not by much. And so, aren’t you lucky, here I am once again.

I’ve considered leaving WordPress. If I can’t keep up with people, whatz the point? But, I want to stay and see my way through this with people following my recovery and my writing and my life. I guess in that order.

Most of my energy is going into my recovery from tripping on a child’s tiny bristle block. I feel I need to write more about that and how depressed I’ve become from being homebound and hounded with medical care.

I don’t want to have a meltdown here but…I sense one approaching.

This is all my wrist will take today.  I’m hoping to submit a piece to FFAW tomorrow.  ‘We’ll’ see.

Ellespeth

Sweet Elise – Fiction

Time again for Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers.  So grateful to PJ for hosting this weekly challenge.   This week’s photo prompt is provided by The Magicsticgoldenrose. Thank you for our photo prompt!

Please follow little froggy for more stories.

Here is the photograph and my story:

Sweet Elise

Remember when she passed for white? Not that she knew it. Of course she didn’t know it. But then it started passing around her Ivy League sorority…  The Homecoming Queen had something to hide.

The Homecoming game was, as anticipated, won by the home team. As their Queen, after the game, she threw pink and red and white rose petals onto the field. She was lovely. So beautiful and regal. A prize for any man who’d claim her. Until…

Later…  “Move away, now! Move away!” ordered the campus police. They were waiting for  local enforcements to arrive.

She’d remained untouched since her body had been found in her dorm room. Gold safety pins, holding good bye notes, were attached to her homecoming gown. One in particular came to muddy the day:

“So much more I wanted for thee and me, love…Sweet Elise.”

Ellespeth

One Open Moment – Poem w/Some Prose

Here is the poem encompassing the feeling tone of my novel.  I’ve written three paragraphs.  I could be onto something.  🙄

I’m 4 months into recovery from a serious fall.  It’s slow and painful.  I’ve had to put away my manual typewriter and begin to use this laptop more  😞  Something about punching down the keys on the manual was keeping my arm in pain.  I’m not sure I can master the voiced typing whatever thingy.  It still doesn’t recognize my voice.

One Open Moment

I remember
the sounds of crickets on the bayou
and moonlight shining through moss
making lace patterns
on the window shade.

I remember your moist lips against my cheek
and that little wave
you always gave
to tell me
see you later.

Where are you?
How could our world
just open
and steal you away like it did?

Ellespeth