10/22/2018

October's cool sun--

a fuzzy cat reclines,

soaking it in.

All orange now...

All orange now--
the ambient light
from the falling sun.

Two Haiku

The old graveyard--
hot sun filters down
through green leaves.

---------------

Little white fingers trace
sculpted grave statues--
filtered sunlight.


As a child, I spent at least part of my summers with my two aunts in Placerville. My favorite aunt, Annie, was very involved with a church very near an old graveyard there.  I would go over there and play, reading the stones, touching the statues, feeling the summer heat even in the shade of the trees. It was a peaceful place, with headstones and statues that were beautiful to me. 

Still Falling Down on the Job: August Daily Blog Challenges 9 - 12

Day 9, Friday. A regret.

With best intentions,
I say I commit.  But no
follow through means---

Day 10, Saturday.  Opening lines from five favourite books, in no particular order.

• ''Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.''

• "There was a boy named Eustace Clarence Scrubb, and he almost deserved it."  (Probably the best opening line of a book EVER.)

• "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife."  (A ubiquitous choice, but this is one of everyone's favorite opening lines for a reason.)

• "The first ray of light which illumines the gloom, and converts into a dazzling brilliancy that obscurity in which the earlier history of the public career of the immortal Pickwick would appear to be involved, is derived from the perusal of the following entry in the Transactions of the Pickwick Club, which the editor of these papers feels the highest pleasure in laying before his readers, as a proof of the careful attention, indefatigable assiduity, and nice discrimination, with which his search among the multifarious documents confided to him has been conducted."

• ''If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.''

Day 11, Sunday.  Earliest memory.

Sunlit reddish hair,

sparkling water dotted with

geese and small breadcrumbs.

 

Day 12, Monday.  A ghost story – yours or someone else’s.

 

Glowing demon eyes--

or werewolf-- born of fears

religiously born.