The autumn
chill descended over
the town and
with it came
rot and ruin; will it ever
be spring time again

In response to First Line Friday -October 13th, 2017

My life up in smoke

bag on grass
play with band of friends
with bare feet
on beach stones
push each other in water
laughing all the while

why did I
grow up, reflect on
the answer
the phone rings
my agent is back on line
I light up a smoke

In response to The Sunday Whirl’s Wordle 312


the mask drops
on her face I see
scorn; hits me
she felt the need to humor
when she wants to flee

saved by skin
of teeth, the storm had
been brewing
her digs were
getting frequent – cream I used
the poet I was

In response to The Sunday Whirl’s Wordle 308

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