Warm sunshine, the glare brilliant. Cannonball! My toes plunge to an icy spot deep beneath the surface of the lake. Relief on a hot July day.
Pressing seeds into the damp earth, I inhale the freshness of soil. The beginning of life.
Wading in the ocean, the tide yearns, pulls. The moon watches.
Alone in the woods, the black forest encircles me. What if I get lost?
Pen to paper, I release thoughts buried inside my mind. Memories stir.
Only one footstep from normal, the wild side of the road awakens the soul.
“And now let the wild rumpus start!”
― Maurice Sendak, Where the Wild Things Are
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
Pary Moppins says
Such vivid imagery! Beautiful poem and photo.
Barbara Tate says
Well said. Loved it.
Awesome, Talya…I have to admit, I really like your “Wild Side.”=) I felt as though I was encountering each one of these moments you wrote about here…what a great talent you have…and now, though I didn’t think it possible, I’m even more anxious to read your novel…but no pressure!=)….it’s not done ’til it’s done.
Talya Tate Boerner says
Thanks! It’s getting there (my book)…