yellow boat resting
unpredictable ocean
comes out of doldrums
__________________
dVerse prompt to write of yellow
Yellow Boat
Photography
Diani Beach
Sand
and water
on my feet
tide going out
coming in again
as I walk a shell line
or wade in knee deep
caught in a clouded sky
between heaven and earth
________________
dVerse prompt on place. I think the beach will always be my place.
Reminiscing
__________________
Texting with my daughter
Serving
Oh to be able to taste again
sweet tapas of Malaga
restaurants flung wide open
olives served which we never ordered
but still had to pay for
_____________
dVerse prompt on food. One too many servings of covid right now.
A Place in the Sun
Houses for sale in the Algarve
follow the cobblestone to the yellow one
imagine myself speaking Portuguese
eu escrevo em poesia
nadar no Mediterrâneo
cultivar vegetais
_________________
dVerse prompt concerning an imagined house — I’ll take one in the Algarve of Portugal. Translation:
I write in poetry/ swim in the Mediterranean/grow vegetables
Garden Wounds
When plants fight back
leave a wound on finger
twig in the eye
scrap of the blackberry vine
stain of the grass
bitter taste
of the forgotten lettuce
renegade limbs
blocking my path
thought that they could
keep me away
wound up as compost
______________________
dVerse prompt to use the homograph wound in a quadrille
Skyline
Blue is the color of the sky
or the water when it runs clean enough
there is a line called the horizon
that when seen from mid ocean
becomes a circle
not 360 degrees of separation
rather a binding look at a whole world
__________________
dVerse quadrille prompt on sky
Beach Hikes
Beach hikes are the best because there is no elevation. I can walk for miles, barefooted, sand between my toes and shells strewn along the way. Waves repeating melody cancels the cares of the world, healing power of sound and saltwater.
Except in some beaches of Portugal where the hike to the small beach among rugged cliffs is near impossible. A road leads down, the surf pounds and beware of being pulled under.
In Crete the road winds along sharp curves, narrow, sometimes one lane, for miles going down until finally, there is an expanse of beach, pink sand and clear water.
in any season
this offering to the land
brought by the sea
On Bees
great souls in little bodies—- Virgil Book 4
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
_________________
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.
wordshophop 