Small Stone 10/23

Morning Sky

A partially concealed silver coin lingers next to a nuclear-pink haze.

Small Stone 10/22

Liz Biz

Scuttle, scuttle, pause

Scuttle, scuttle, pause

PushupPushupPushup

........................... Gone.

Small Stone 10/21

The mirror says I'm beautiful

In dry-erase marker

Small Stone 10/20

Sunday morning

Pastor at the makeshift altar

Mocking...

"but my faith is private, it belongs to me,  I don't want to share it!"

I'm laughing

At my own stupidity.

Small Stone 10/19

Courtyard

A stuccoed quadrangle, with a half-egg arch of sandy brick that opens one wall.

Small Stones Oct 16-18

SS 10/18  -

From chin to chest, my neck is a cove for her nuzzling nose, and moist breath, and sleepy protests against the morning.

SS 10/17 -

Sunlight breaking through the shutters gives glare to the glossy cover of a paperback.

SS 10/16 -

Mourning

I'm about to ask if she's done something different with her makeup, because she looks especially beautiful tonight - something different with her eyes

Then this - "It's been an emotional day; we had to put our dog to sleep"

Small Stones Feb-Oct 2013

SS 10/15 -

A pain-full eeking dog cry from his mouth;

A bit of white fur - and red - on hers.

SS 10/14 -

Desert Drive

A wall of semi-trucks in the slow lane

Pass windmills that glow in a peach tea sunset.

My jeep sways in the wind.

SS 10/13 -

Sanctuary

White

Freshly laundered

White

Electrically heated

White

Days end

Dark

SS 10/12 -

Ritual

3 AM - stealing cereal, stealing kisses, stealing one more hour of sleep

SS 10/11 -

Grey ostrich feathers sweep across teal leather, black plastic, a tiny red bulb that is lit

Eyes search the label on the vinyl - Johnny Cash

He was missing his Grandpa this week

SS 10/10 -

In the after-rain sunshine

A sheet of plexiglass across still-damp brick pavers 

Laminates a vapor-filled maze

SS 6/1 -

Tarnished plating dims the background, but not the brilliance, of crystal navettes. All glamour in a circular form she'd have worn on a night out with the ladies, accompanied by furs, and old fashioneds, and gentlemen; but none of that explains the palm that reaches for my chest, stretched and shielding, that instinctive attempt to catch a feral breath that cannot be held capture. For it is memory, and the grieving of it, that gives this memento Its beauty.

SS 5/22 -

Frontman

Not-so-dirty hippy hybrid, dash of American Indian stereotyped style, and a smidge of... Wham? Working his some-kinda-sexy in flaming mango dyed denim fitted with a crotch cradle. A... crotch... cradle...  But it's all about the drumsticks.

SS 5/19 - 

West Covina

Shaggy-haired tween with nerd-chic glasses 

Strolls through a parking lot; 

One hand carries a box of fundraiser candy bars, in the other

A smoldering cigar.

SS 2/23

A fevered forehead warms my lips as I kiss her