Deep South Autumn…

Through

Spider’s matrix

Cool mist

Sunlight muted

Withered leaves

Pale cotton white

 

http: http://www.lynnjordanphotography.com

 

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Do You Feel Lucky?

Perambulating under ladders
not a good thing to do
at any time
not just on
Friday thirteenth
Broken mirrors
Spilled salt
Black cats
across pathways
Handwritten
Number one
and thirteen
spaced too closely
resembled the
Letter “B”
Hotels left out
Floor thirteen–
Nothing between
Floors twelve
and fourteen
Did that really
fool anyone?
Luck is right place
right time
We make our own luck
our own superstitions
That’s the way
it has always been

Editor’s Note: Written before my fast-food order got totally botched.  Two value meals, same as I always ordered.  How hard could that be to understand?  Maybe there’s something to the Friday thirteenth thing.  No Friday thirteenth fast-food from now on.

 

Words That Stuck Around

Lots of letters–of course
Enough vowels to avoid confusion
Could be blissful, wistful, strong
Not likely to be wasted words
Describing persons, places, things
Peppered with apostrophes
To mark missing letters
Hyphens were popular
As were, compound words
Wait a minute–I said as I pondered
What I’d just written was absurd
Words weren’t supposed to be
Compounded to confound
The best words were those
Used in casual conversations
Not those hard to remember

Torn Mental Notebook Pages

Feather bolsters

Sea monkeys

Dead armadillos

Cuteness overlords

From the social stratosphere

Propped on front yard mental blocks

No swim zones–surrounded by water

With best of everything, and no money

Phenomenons learned from lemons–without limits

Never volunteered, never admitted to anything

Yellow-bellied cowards–stared

From jalousie windows

Got the blues–their compassion

Eaten by moray eels

Didn’t care for salads

Meat, meat, more meat

Potatoes, potatoes, and more potatoes

Until they were all starched up

Played mental games

With sock-monkey puppets

Finished against head strong winds