wild, wet ‘n wooly

A small story poem of 115 words linked to dVerse where Bjorn and friends are writing narrative poetry. Also inspired by Sarah’s earlier “mindfulness” prompt!

 

brave-heart caterpillar

three centimeters long

weighs all of a gram

spiky brown-black fur

humping along unaware

crosses grandson’s path

who grasps stray fuzzball

tickly in palm of hand

gently carried on hike

until trail ends at pier

 

where insect pupa is

plopped into pond

as fish bait—but wait,

does it know to swim?

fur floats, frantically

w-w-w-wiggles body

up/down like ripples

across water’s surface

until grandma, empathic,

fishes live catkin out

 

woolie happy at rescue

dries in sunshine and

casts an intimidating

spiked shadow across

pier’s knotted plank

grandson decides to

return him to tall grass

so newly cool cat can

retell adventures to his

sheltered larval friends

 

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photo by lynn

 

 

 

 

puzzling

i bought
a new giant
floor puzzle,
especially for
young grandson

a picture of
fascinating
creatures who
live under the
ocean waves

sharks, eels,
sting rays and
cute clownfish
anemones, stars,
and sea horses

but he chooses
the old favorite
floor puzzle of
familiar farm
animals…again

🙂


Joining Elsie at Ramblings of a Writer with theme”Under the Ocean”

logo-napowrimo

cicada song

Posting this haibun for dVerse Poets as we bid a long goodbye to sweet summertime.  Toni is hosting with an emphasis on “komorebi”, a Japanese word for the light that filters between trees…enjoy!

 

Our firstborn son’s house sits on a hill with a woodsy backyard and inviting patio where we celebrated mother’s day last spring. Now we embark on a final summer bike ride before our oldest grandchild starts school. It requires a little time and patience to find everyone’s helmet and shoes before hitching up the toddler carrier and deciding our route. To avoid riding on the busy narrow street, I and the two boys take a shortcut over grassy properties between shrubbery to meet grandpa and dad near the bike path.

My middle grandson points the way to “our lake” and we head down the steep path, gaining speed and testing brakes alternately. After a couple curves, the lake is in view below us. Wildflowers border the smooth concrete which ends at a dirt trail leading into the trees. Some tri-leaf plants look suspiciously like poison ivy so I google it while waiting with grandson for the other riders to catch up. His helmet is too loose and flops sideways again so I tighten the straps.

It’s gratifying to watch our son with his children at the lakeside park as he explores with them. We notice frogs of various sizes in the mud and a painted turtle on a submerged branch. My husband sits at lone picnic table with granddaughter as I try to keep up with the boys while maintaining a safe distance from a cattail swamp.

The sun plays hide and seek with puffy clouds above us and something, perhaps a fish, jumps as evidenced by the concentric rings expanding outward across the quiet water. The water too is partly cloudy, with some algael growth around its edges and a muddy bottom that gets stirred up by slightest movement of crawdad or minnow. A painted-lady butterfly flits from late dandelion head to wild morning glory bloom.

 

loud strumming in tree

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photo by lynn

camouflaged musician of

summer’s symphony

lil’ lovin’ limerick (1)

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I have a dear grandson named Lincoln

whose cuteness can sometimes be stinkin’

I caught his sweet face

his blue eyes?  not a trace

Saying “cheese” is too cheesy, I’m thinkin’