Anxiety burnsan acidic devouring confidence impaled –mind wanders to childhood dreamsuncovers fear’s origin. (Tuesdays, I borrow from Twitter @Vjknutson. I came across this tanka written in May/21 that seemed to match with the image I recently posted on my other blog. I decided to pair them here.)
We wait at the station, Mother and I,one final stop for her – painless she prays;I busied at bedside – prolonged goodbye –memories and regrets filling our days. “We live too long,” she wearily proclaims“Why must suffering linger till the end?”I plea and bargain, call angelic names,yet the will to survive refuses to bend. The […]
There are mouse bitssplayed across the sunroomstuck to my favourite throw rug and great globs of glue The trap my husband setto catch the recent invasionapparently lured the hunterfor she, stiff legged andface matted, is skulkingelsewhere I stepped on a gluey biteyes not yet openbefore notingthe disarray Hard to concentratewhen a tail detachedfrom a thigh […]
One Woman's Quest II 
The difference between the horse drawn wagon and the new machines is that the wagon would distill back into nature but the machines take generations to do that. Passed plenty of these big toys on the road trip, lots of dollars in the fields. Nice tones in your shots.
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Thanks Paul. I once coached a boys’ soccer team, maybe up of rural boys. When the city boys would taunt them and call them farmers, they’d retort: “Yeah, well our tractor costs more than your house”!
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So true here too, much money in those toys.
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VJ, these look like photos I would have taken. Wonderful entry 😀
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Well, you do teach me, Cee. Thanks.
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Is the horse and buggy a wood carving?
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It is.
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It took me a minute to see the big tires in the grass!
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Yes, they are well hidden.
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