Sitting Goddess do I wish I could draw the mountain that is burning into my mind a beautiful bulwark over time shaped shaved crushed Yet I am still Sitting
The writing prompt was a photograph by Ansel Adams from the book “The Georgia O’Keefe Museum.” Georgia O’Keefe sketching …
Ashen grey, love that was white snow left to melt upon the frozen meadow faded photographs — old diaries secrets carved wood that once had meaning lines as fine as Madame’s greying hair shed upon a pillowcase rouge smeared onto the cold pool the looking glass shafts of light soak through decaying skin — falling in mottled sheets silver–encrusted lips kissing soft bark a child’s boots tread feather-light beds of rotten leaves hours vanish mind. empty sturdy beams clean pale sky windows open doubt growing moss ivy garden touching eaves dripping white oak and rain singing names across the wood’s fine grain
This is the second poem by Eva García-mayers in this blog. Twice a month, her writing group has given me the energy to continue walking. And writing.
Twirling in orange
Sacral flows down and up and
Ajna seeing blue
In my writing group on the weekend, the prompt was to look at the painting and write a haiku. If I remember right, this is my first haiku — ever. I asked Jim LePage, and he graciously gave me permission to use his painting on my blog.
If you have the interest, time, and energy to read more of the Just texts you find them in blog order on this website. Please comment on what you associate with them, what you like, what you dislike, what you read in them, how they make you feel …
If you do not follow blogs, which I understand, I also let all know on Twitter and Instagram. See you soon.
Texterium 