Drawn To It

For Linda G Hill’s Stream of Consciousness Saturday Prompt: Magnet

I like to look up,

into the sky

with my eyes wide open

even if it is raining

or snowing

Or pigeons are flying over head

desperately shedding feathers and poo.


I like to look down at

ruts in the road carved by cars and running water

and ice puddles

with cracked surfaces that remind me of aged skin

and gardens that have gone to seed patiently waiting for next Spring


I’m drawn to them all

like magnets to steel

like silly girls to pretty boys

who wear to much cologne.

The Garden Over The Hill

Ragtag Daily Prompt Thursday – A Flower Cried

Over the hill

from where I live

is a garden

where nothing grows, except regret.

In the garden

over the hill

from where I live

nothing grows


there are no more second chances

there are no more disappointing kisses ,

no more hellos,

no tortured goodbyes

no one here will ever  miss bus, or train or  lose money or catch a cold.

In the garden

over the hill from where I live

the stone angels look like they’re crying ,

but they have never shed a tear

the flowers, cut down in their prime, when they are at their brightest

 weep and fade when it’s their time to go

like all of us do

on the other side of the hill

from the garden

where nothing grows.

Photo A.M Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Photo A.M. Moscoso