|
Morning birds — tunes I haven't heard in many months.
She brings breakfast in bed — the paper, under an arm.
Front page — "War in Europe Over, Hitler defeated."
Low on fuel — finally, in the distance a gas station.
Red, glowing sunset — the ferry operator smiles.
Model sail boat — Dad helps and whistles while we work.
Click here for Notes
Foot traffic — a dandelion sprout in a tiny crack.
These new shoes — my feet sue for a prompt return.
Passing car — a bit of her dress caught in the door.
A large man squeezes in between us — long bus ride.
Plastic bottle of mustard — the supper silence broken.
Bottle of Merlot — the corkscrew leaves half the cork behind.
Click here for Notes
Glacier in the lake — a splash is seen, before it is heard.
A breaking-up rumour started — we just now find out.
A tulip petal falls to the floor — the baby has a taste.
Dark chocolate between the lips — she bites a little chunk.
He releases the bowling ball... the left pin wobbles, falls.
A wet cardboard box — one kick almost sends a piece across the puddle.
Click here for Notes
First day out learning to be a rabbit — tree-bark scattered.
New postal job — he opens a gate with "Beware of Dog".
The young mother gives the infant her breast — the crying stops.
Erupting curses — the rookie mason nearly hits his chisel.
Another wrong note — she bangs the keyboard.
He discovers how to get under her skin: on, off... louder...
Click here for Notes

|