In this area in Quebec it is forbidden to hunt wild turkey past noon because they are more vulnerable…it is a time they are often found napping in a tree.
afternoon freedom
safe from hunters
turkeys yelp
Humans talk (communicate) in varied ways…
(senryu)
business meetings
teaching, lecturing
no talking in class
baby’s first words
talking gibberish
toddlers understand
adolescents
instant message texting
teen talk
music
lyrics soothe the heart
love songs
tête à tête
holding hands lovingly
warm caresses
sexual healing
communion of bodies
gentle moans
matters of the heart
talking softly
language of love
When I saw this photo taken by Georgia at Basket and Sekhmet’s Library, I had to smile. I had taken a phto of 2 pay phones in the Métro last Spring. The fact that these are near such a lovely green space stirred contradictions…beauty, ugliness, pleasure and pain and this is what my muse came up with for Bastet’s Shadorma Prompt at MindLoveMiserysMenagerie.
(shadorma)
Assaults lurk In the dead of night behind trees far from phones cyclists never heard her screams would have dialed for help.
(senryû)
predators always study their territory and their prey.
(shadorma)
phones by parks gives false illusions of safety late at night listen up! one`s never safe when monsters still breathe
Now to make this fun a little and give me more of a challenge, I am adding my photos of these phones in the Métro. Having looked at them, my muse seems fixated on sad affairs.
Our host at Carpe Diem Haiku Kai has given us the Prompt “wings” and gave us a few quotes from Khalil Gibran in Sand and Foam. However, when I think of wings there are several meanings that come to mind. This morning I saw a haiku by MarkM Redfearn for this prompt. I did not know it was an offering to this prompt at the time, but his haiku inspired me to write something about children, war and wings at “Do not weep for me” But after reading several times our host’s prompt I am reminded of two situations.
I like how our host describes how amazing it would be to fly and visit the world, look down at our planet from above. That would be so cool! As children we believe that some humans can actually fly. My son certainly did believe in Superman when he was only two and a half. I was almost nine months pregnant with his little sister and I had gone into the house for a moment to check something on the stove. We lived in the country and my son had been playing in the sandbox when I had gone in. When I came out to join him in the backyard, my neighbor came rushing to me out of breath. My son had climbed the metal tower for the television antennae and was on the roof of my neighbour’s house. He was singing the intro song of the show “Superman”. I called up to him and told him to wait for mommy to join him, but my tummy was too big to manage the climb. Another neighbour’s teenager went up for me. My son believed he could fly…Dear Lord, I was so grateful he had not jumped!
it’s a bird
it’s a plane
it’s superman
So when we talk about flying, that story always comes to mind.
My mother and I are very very close. Growing up I always felt connected and even after I married (still young at 19) that bond was still very strong. In fact, I remember at 22, we had moved about a thirty minute drive from her and I experienced separation anxiety for a year. Well, not like a child, but I had developed pain in my shoulder for a long time and a rheumatologist had told me to figure out what had changed in my life in the past few months and that that was the root of my pain. I was quite insulted of his insinuation that it was psychosomatic but he was right. The pain went away on its own several months later.
Growing up as a teenager, I had never really rebelled or given my mother a difficult time like many teenagers naturally do. My parents had divorced when I was a teen and I felt even closer to my mother, wanting to protect her and take care of her. It was when my own marriage ended, 24 years later, I moved 6 hours away from home to start a new life and a new career. That was the first time I had actually cut the umbilical cord…really! Indeed, at 40 something, I was finally spreading my own wings and becoming an independent woman. I was definitely a late bloomer but better late than never, right? I could not help but choose a photo of a dove to represent my moving on with my life. In this case we are talking about separating from my mother, Colombe (which means dove)
Better late then never, I say with this interesting photo prompt. Photo challenge #20 Time Goes by like a train, at Mind Love Misery’s Menagerie awakened my memories of living by the train tracks near my grandmother’s home. I used to run across as the gate was just coming down, bells ringing and the man in the tower shouting at me to stop but a few times, I still took a chance. How lucky I was not to end up like this though I just wrote…
railway crossing yesteryear’s tragic loss her ghost still walks
But this prompt’s title also inspires thoughts about time and we have had several haiku prompts from a few different blogs on “time” in the past weeks. This is what the photo with the title inspired…
summer days crawl forlorn, waits for her lover but time has stopped
Thank you, Yves, for this interesting photo challenge! I am slowly transferring all my short form poetry under the nom de plume, Tournesol @ Tournesol dans un jardin.
Tournesol dans un Jardin 
