She danced from the day she took her first steps & went through life that way. Never to walk or run, but to dance.
There were many lovers who took notice to her because of it. But they always tried to tie her down, force her to walk beside them.
She left them, pirouetted away.
Then the day she met another Dancer like her. A true partner that didn't try to lead. Someone to merge moves with. Swaying in synchronous step.
#microfictiony3

I've walked these lands before they were known. They were mine to tend. Mine to keep. I whispered to the river so it knew how to speak. I lifted the trees and spread their limbs. I dug out the valleys and piled up the hills and invited the beasts in. Now man has come too. Little cottages with whips of smoke from their chimneys. They won't find me though. I've wandered here so long I've become the land. The roots pump through me, the moss covers me, the river too. Mine to keep.

#microfictiony3

She started small, an ember in someone else's ashes. Barely more than a spark. But the Winds blessed her, sighing breezes to fan her, carrying fuel to feed her until she grew.
Grew large enough to wrap the Winds around her. Gusts to tease the flames flickered through her hair. Gales to caress her.
She gathered all the Winds together & took them inside her in 1 breath so they'd survive the journey through the cosmos. Until she found a rocky world to wrap in the Winds & shine on.
#microfictiony3

Winter yawned & stretched. Slowly she woke up with a shiver, her frost tinged hair cascading around her. Her days were here. She heard Autumn bustling about and cleaning up in the rooms below. It was her turn soon. Time to swap places with her sister & guide the Days.
Her sisters think she has it easiest with the shortest Days. They don't think about the long Nights, lonely and cold. The darkness and quiet frozen thoughts floating down & piling up in drifts in the corners.

#microfictiony3

I collect people's Lucky Charms. There's a room for the rabbits feet, another for coins, & yet another for horse shoes. The walls all papered with four leaf clovers. Common trinkets to good fortune.
The last room, that's where the real treasures are. Talismans more rare. A seamstresses lucky shears. A kids lucky sock. Bibles & broaches, locks of hair & hats, pens & pins. Even a lucky brick & pair of underwear.
Under the glass there, sealed away, the treasure of them all, a kiss.
#microfictiony3

The old witch told me that I couldn't escape the curse. That it was my Fate. I knew a secret she didn't. We each have our own Fate tied to our souls. I know how to loosen that knot. Now I'll keep swapping these Destinies until i find one I want. Maybe I'll just keep a few of them to myself.
That leaves someone out there with no Fate at all. No oath etched in the stars & preordained. I'm not brave enough to do that. Too much freedom. Freedom to achieve greatness, but also to fail.
#microfictiony3

I come here alone. Let the wind whip me along paths forgotten until I'm lost, then a little farther until I'm found again. Here I bury my promises. Softly spoken oaths sealed in jars & tucked beneath the loamy earth.
I can't tell you where this place is; I don't know. I just wander until I'm here again.
The promises are piling up. The earth mounding into a monument. But that's okay, I have lots more to make, my Love.
All for you. Until the days end.
Until we're together again.

#microfictiony3

Dear Child, I planted a tree for you today. Deep in the woods, in the clearing near the stream. Day by day, it'll grow along with you. Day by day, getting strong as you do.
I hope it learns to sway with the wind & dance in the breeze. To smile at the rain that kisses the leaves.
The seasons will trudge by for you & the tree. Taller & wiser each year, you & your tree.
May you weather your storms together & enjoy the sun & shade.
Dear Child, I planted a tree for you today.
#microfictiony3

There's a smell to the dusty air in the back of the barn loft. The hay, the wood, the horses down below. They all mix into a blend that tells me stories. Stories of the old days, when my grandpa hid up here. Stories of secrets told between best friends and first kisses between awkward lips.
I love to lay here and listen to these stories. To learn these secrets floating through the air, quiet motes drifting through me in silence except for the horses down below.
#microfictiony3

There's a place where all the broken things go. Piled up high, waiting for someone to come along & make them whole.
Make them useful again.
While dust builds up in the corners, the piles grow, until the broken things that came here first are forgotten.
Deep in the pile I lay. Forgotten. Beneath the detritus of long lost days. Forgotten.
But I remember. The days when I could help. When I had a purpose. I have not forgotten.
So I wait knowing that 1 day, someone will come for me.
#microfictiony3

These chill mornings I switch my music over to slower and quieter tunes. Fitting cadence to the slowed down days as I hug my mug closer to keep the warmth to myself. The frost blankets the yard and nips up the bottom edge of the windows.
I move slower these mornings too. Pace myself to the sunrise and waking up as the first rays creep over the hills and slide into our valley.
The kettle boils for my next cup & sometimes I let it go a minute longer to listen to the hiss & gurgle.
#microfictiony3

The frogs and turtles burble in their sleep, buried in the mud before the frost came.
The squirrels chitter on the forest floor. Scurrying through the crunchy leaves to check on their secret stores.
The deer munch the last leaves off the bushes. Their breath coming out in steamy puffs.
It's quiet on these mornings where winter peeks over the horizon. The play of summer has passed. The birds and the beasts set to the business of preparing for the long cold.

#microfictiony3

I met a bricklayer who swore at every brick he laid. His days filled: mortar, set, swear.
He did it that way from his apprentice days. I'd look around the town at all the walls cursed into existence. All the fook, shite, arse courses lining the streets, forming people's homes & garden walls.
These little blocks of earth dug up, formed & thrown in a fire to come out and be wanked into place. What the magic he held was is beyond my reasoning, but the walls stayed true & plumb.
#microfictiony3

Sometimes I feel like a forgotten station
Where the train doesn't stop.

Everyone speeding by
While I wait.

No arrivals
No departures

Turnstiles stuck
While I wait.

Always looking at the next train
Coming down the line.

Just passing by
While I wait.

#cosopoetry
#microfictiony3

My days are mapped in scribbles of all the paths I've walked.

Journeys back and forth through my house.

Trips repeated.

Ghost steps worn into the wood and carpets.

Lines and arcs delineating the minutes and hours.

You can find my days of drudges, of depressions & overwhelms; smudges set wide.

But you can also find my days of joy.

Light skips and dancing twists; filigreed flows.

The joyous days colored by paths entwined with another.
#cosopoetry
#microfictiony3

I stick my feet between
Porch rails
And let the rain wet my toes.

Lightning dances between the clouds
Thunder rolls down
And through me.

I save some inside me
Rumbles stored up for days
When the worries pile up

#cosopoetry
#microfictiony3

My demons came out tonight
To dance in the beams
Of the squalid moon light
Dive in the dark chilled stream
And restore their waning might
So their dark hearts gleam
For the times when I fight
For the times when I dream
When my demons come out at night

#cosopoetry
#microfictiony3

The oppressive weight of the shadows pinned me.
Every day brings a new sun and new shadows to everyone. I get a new shadow too, but I never shed the shadow from the day before. Day after day ticks by & the shadows keep building up.
Now I can't move. They hold me fast. Chained to all the days long passed.
Anchored to all that I was.
But these are my shadows. They are me & I called on them.
Now they lift me up & carry me. The me's that were, bring me to who I will be tomorrow.
#microfictiony3

The Gray Wind blew and the sparrows fled to hide under eaves & in the thick bushes. They knew the story the breathless gale wanted to etch into them. Story of a breeze always beneath the clouds. An empty blustering life moving away from the sunshine days. A cold wisping heart lost in a tempest.
The sparrows fluffed their feathers up & huddled close to each other. Waiting for the Gray Wind to pass, knowing it always would, further on & on.
#microfictiony3

The days have blown through me & I've been swept away in times flow. The rush & tumble has mixed me up & it feels like I've lost so much in the stream. Faster & faster it rushes into a blur pulled across my eyes, watching it all just float away.
The perspective overwhelms me. I've lived in a tempest & at the same time no more than a boat in a puddle. A drop of water sealed up in a bottle & tossed in someone else's sea.
#microfictiony3