Outside

Outside

a squirrel & a dove

feed on the ground

figs are coming on

second crop for the birds

& my vision blurred

by the screen

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dVerse prompt to take a photo out the window, post photo and write a poem. Oh, how I feel my vision has been blurred lately.

Outside

Picking Cotton

MEMORIES of cotton picking days

picked along with men and women

all over the South

people of all colors

fourteen footer dragged behind

filled with cotton

picked from each boll

start when you’re old enough

to hold a sack

sang in harmony

as we picked

infant scooting behind

too small to pick

“cotton on the roadside

cotton in the ditch

we all picked cotton

but we never got rich”

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photo from SMU Degolyer Library

Picking Cotton

Crete

  
   

Crete in late October

stay at the Domes Noruz

beach resort in Chania

a feast at breakfast 

rental car required 

to visit Elafonisi

most beautiful pink beach

follow winding road

through countryside

visit a monastery 

hike Imbros Gorge

so much to do

on an island

or do nothing

  

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dVerse prompt on travel.  Hoping for the day I can return to Crete.

Crete

Standstill

“No one left and no one came on the bare platform.” No one was going anywhere. The trains and planes had stopped running a week ago. All ground transportation halted by order of the government. Gas stations were closed. Truckers off for two weeks. This was a complete stand still. Fourteen days to clear the virus out of the system. Only one more week to go. One more week to make the food last; for the hospitals to unlock.

Plans were already going up for the restart. The grocery stores would open first, pharmacies second. People in close proximity to these places are lucky as they can walk. Public transportation would resume on the third day. Gas stations would open for delivery trucks only. Hospitals open, followed by churches. By the end of ten days, people can drive a car again. Back to normal.

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dVerse prompt for prose of 144 words using the sentence “No one left and no one came on the bare platform.” by Edward Thomas. Photo taken in Italy. This is a fantasy of how it could be if all transportation comes to a standstill including walking.

Standstill

Lake Bosumtwi

 

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A meteor struck

filled with rain

fish came

 

twenty tribes

along the shore

speak Twi

 

fishermen

& their families

tour guides too

 

akwaaba   welcome

medaase   thank you

mayera   I’m lost

 

primary school

helps the children

learn English

 

sacred lake to Ashanti

protect her

life-sustaining waters

 

Tumi nyina ne asase

All power emanates

from the earth

 

 

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NaPoWriMo prompt to write a place poem.  Lake Bosumtwi is the only natural lake in Ghana,  an ancient impact crater.

 

 

Lake Bosumtwi

Returning

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October 30, 2019, returning from Athens to NYC.   My daughter and I had traveled together for two months without having any major disagreements. There was just one night in Dubai when I was verging on being a selfish, judgmental person; I got over it. At the outset of the trip, I said I wanted only three things— to go to Prayer Mountain in Ghana, to do a day trip to Morocco, and to visit Pompeii.   I am easy to please most of the time.

 

I take it back. There was a moment on the train from the Athens airport to our hotel in the heart of Athens when I was so nervous about getting off at the correct station that two pickpockets targeted us. My daughter felt a hand in her bag and looked the thief in the eye. He bolted without her wallet. It was an elaborate scheme where one thief held the door from opening, while the other went for the cash. My lesson— stay alert, don’t become a victim.

 

Now that I am remembering— the other time my daughter got mad at me was at the Catania Airport when I turned into an “ugly American” and told off a group of Italians on the tarmac bus to move closer together so everyone could get on. I was shouting in English and nobody moved an inch.

 

 

trip of a lifetime

pray for Europe  Africa

and all of the world

 

 

 

dVerse prompt to use a poem written about myself and write a haibun based on that poem. I used my poem Language written October 7, 2019, while I was on this trip and at one point, didn’t know where I was. Now I pray that someday I can return, especially to Ghana.

Returning

Glow

A setting sun

makes faces glow

it reflects

on the passing day

sparkles sand

makes sea shine

lingers on the surface

of earth

makes it golden or pink

before it disappears

leaves colors

temporarily

dangling on clouds

brilliant

in its display

worthy of audience

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dVerse prompt to write a quadrille using the word glow

Photo on the beach Pine Cliffs in the Algarve, Portugal

Glow

Burial Urns

The tomb urn is big enough to hold a body. (It is another way to bury the dead in ancient Sicily. We see them in the archeological museum.) I am climbing over an adult-sized one trying not to break it. When I get to the top, the urn falls forward and moves down a small hill. It does not break so my relief is great. A girl comes to help me to move it upright and to set it in a new place. I know this dream is about death. How the burying of the dead has changed since the beginning. Now I can choose my burial in an ecopod much like the urns of Sicily. I will know the falling of the vessel that takes me away. That it is there ready to receive me.

Burial Urns