Beautifully crafted prose poem about life, living and sacrifice.
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Journal
Daily Archives: January 19, 2016
THE MAN AND THE DOGS by E.F. Olsson {Short Flash}
A Well-crafted ghost flash fiction. Gave me chills!
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THE MAN AND THE DOGS by E.F. Olsson
The rough waters crashed against the cement docks. A mist of water sprayed through the fence gate causing me to shudder and move away from the bench that I waited on. Opal wanted to meet here but I don’t know why. Not a soul would want to come to the boardwalk with the weather we’ve been having. She insisted and said that it was important and for me not to ask any questions.
She appeared in the distance; like a silhouette against the gray sky she hobbled towards me. I started towards her and yelled out for her.
“What’s the matter?”
She said nothing. There was something wrong with her. I knew that look she had plastered on her wrinkled face. In the forty some years that we have been friends, I’ve seen that face on a few occasions. She was somber…
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poem-blue
Stunning imagery on twilight!
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Outside, in the twilight
the world is black and blue,
like a sun bleached wrapper,
yellows and reds leached away.
Just an old wrapper,
a ghost of its former brightness,
as is this day, lightness fading
blue.
50 Word Stories: Cold
Powerful story… a reminder that only another human can make us feel this way.
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I’ve stood in a maelstrom without complaint winter met and bested. Oceans have folded over and around my flailing form, abyssal depths cheated. Death has touched my shoulder more than once, I’ve laughed in his face. But the look you cast was cold. It bit deep, a lasting chill.
Shade of Winter – Poetry
art credit: Hazy Shade of Winter by LesFromages
Shade of Winter
Is this death or rebirth?
The age old philosopher’s question –
ever the pessimist or the optimist
But there is more dormant below the surface
than the decaying above
The whisper of a chilled wind carries
the chiming of bangles:
it’s a hazy shade of winter –
ushering in a deep freeze, so silent
one could go mad
And yet, Life bubbles out of frozen ponds
and glistens on tree buds
awaiting the moment to burst
into Divine interpretation
This performance is for the living
the bearer of hope in the bleakest of days
Copyright ©January 2016 Lori Carlson
small stones – January 19, 2016
weeks ago I moved
the most fragile
into the center room
the ones that would freeze
wilt and die below 40 degrees
today I moved the hardiest
as temperatures dipped
way below freezing
if only I could bundle
them all in blankets
my jungle would not be gone
and emptiness
would not surround me
