The pot was boiling over.

It was written on the ticket.

Order number given.

Everyone had added a little.

Death is best Seasoned

in dead of winter...

A dash of cardamon,

a touch of cinnamon,

a few chips of cedar.

All are welcome

at the Bazaar,

hurry and take

it in

from the street

windows

Flurries and

the scurry of feet.

Shovel the paths.

Tis the season.

A cup of cider,

A box of sweet meat

Smoke in the distance.

Bells are ringing...!

Jostling in the lines.

The man in navy cardigan

The woman in wheels,

The empty soup kitchen.

The child, frost bitten.

09.08.2023

Season's murder challenge @Obuck

“Ben?”

No answer.

There’s a note on the living room table.

Barely legible, it reads

You were all I had left.

He didn’t need to sign it. I know his writing like I know I’ll ever get another poem from my love again.

But he was all I had left.

life has such sweet bliss

the beginning of it all

early dawn wakes us

the days pass by slow

time ticks so long as night comes

milestones coming

times we wish could stay

leave so fast, faster than should

pain comes more often

sounds swirl together

the melody humors us

notes float to our ears

then it all speeds up

memory laughs as it leaves

the sweet song is done

Intermittent sound.

I feel the coldness of the sunlight.

Movements draw attention.

One in front of the other.

I gather momentum wrecklessly.

The system asks so much.

She is my hope.

I find joy in laughter.

Broken I mourn times takings.

Golden years bring no peace.

I search rubble for treasure.

Yet I ready my bed.

It's cold again.

Memories resigned as stolen.

I'm afraid of what's next.

you are born in blood

and cry for something unnamed

yearning for soft love

your emotions are

too big for your body, and

you want to catch up

but young adulthood

brings loneliness in u-hauls

and loved ones fading

is this life? just change

and love and loss and feeling

so much you might die?

and then death arrives

so gently, and carries you

back to your old room

We and the sun, high

as lords, as our frisbee, white,

whirling to my hand—

volleyball, cap/gown

cake, pavilion, dogs, friends, a

baby, relatives—

Another photo:

my grandparents and me, one

final time. Happy.

Photographs are leaves:

colorful and aged, what was,

pressed into a book.

Through my window, snow

frames cardinals, searching bare

vines for frozen grapes.

True love's conception

Perfection, by God's own hands

When two became one

She learned so quickly--

Absorbed with insatiable

Curiosity

Eventually

She would come to find her stride

School, driving... the boy

I thought him lacking

But she saw something in him

Eros and Ludus

I'm glad she found love

She lived life passionately

I miss her so much

Slid out of the dark

To fight against blinding lights

with nothing but tears

Soon bathed in laughter

Fingers taught to dance on keys,

always craving more

Begging for boredom,

crushed by mountains of burden,

losing to shadows

Warm hands holding mine

Pull me into an embrace,

a waltz full of life

Fighting for the light,

but yanked back into the dark,

leaving tears of love

Thank you to everyone who submitted an entry to my recent challenge,

The Car of Your Life. I enjoyed each and every write:

The humility of @Mariah was very heartwarming. The narration of @Huckleberry_Hoo gave a smooth look back in sparkling rear view mirror. A gleaming memory from @Last. The child's eye view from @IamnotJasmine and @cfalcon as well as @tarynwinter were poignantly captured moments of shared bonding of emotions. Growing up and growing into awareness of machine, man, and friendship was captured so aptly by @shaynabryer and @Ness_Doublet and @Shallowgenepool.

I loved the change of perspective from car view @H1. The voice dignified and proud; and that brash irreverence of @N_Ame, reminding us that not everyone respects cars all that much!! Though I personally agree that cars should be named like @ktskr and @Obuck and @7v7. Reminders from @beatricegomes and @LARGE that driving is a dangerous enterprise. Physically, and moreover psychologically, as noted by @U and in @Fleetfoot's poetic layered metaphor.

And so.... the winner is...

@Wolvensense... with a write no holds-barred, and an otherworldly creativity built in, the essay just had the feeling of a whole different vehicle. I enjoyed the ride, by no means an easy read. Long and twisting like the roads in Pennsylvania. A state I have never fully enjoyed driving across (many a time) and usually at the most desolate of nighttime with rest station after rest station shuttered for indefinite repairs and gas stations a hundred miles appear along the mountainous highways. I appreciated the underlying social statement.

Congratulations!

And thank you to everyone who contributed by reading, liking and leaving a comment!

I appreciate you all for taking part in the prompt! ...I meant of course to write about my current magnificent silver steel, "Puszczyk," but ugh it will have to wait for another time.

I listened in peace,

To muffled whispers of dreams.

I was with her then.

I detached, dreamless,

In her palm, I rest my head,

With her, I am still.

I grow to her size,

My thoughts, hers, in parallel,

I grow to her age,

I miss her more now

More than imaginable,

More than she could dream.

I listen with love now,

I rest my head on soft, cold pillow,

Now, I am still.