auroral
Gray and pink light in the early morning. The trees stirring, birds in song.
brown
Shades of cedar in the desert, umber and hickory. Cliffs the color of roasted sesame seeds.
festive
The dark pink flowers form an arc from the wall to the cars parked on the curb.
fruitless
He tries to tell a story, but his sentences wind up chasing words he can't remember.
hypersaline
People turning pink in the sun, their bodies stung with salt water. A burning cut on my leg. Cacti springing out of the salty dirt like coils of hair.
keenly
The song reminds her of her parents. She gives me the words to tuck into the back of my book and take with me home.
olid
A woman rolls down her stockings and washes her feet in a reeking rest stop.
Showing posts with label morning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label morning. Show all posts
Monday, January 4, 2016
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Week in Seven Words #41
breath
I love these mellow gold mornings, when I go outdoors and the air has a bite to it, and the sun is out, and the trees shine with autumn. It seems like the most uncomplicated part of the day; everything is fresh and new. I'm not yet indoors somewhere chipping away at a pile of work. It's just me, my feet, my eyes, my roving mind, and I love taking it in - even if it's a short walk it feels like it takes up more space in time.
carmine
At sunset there is wine mixed into the waters of the estuary. The skies fade in a stupor.
marrowy
Good conversation is nourishing. Not just the usual small talk or discussion of minor practicalities, but meaty rambling conversation on all sorts of topics, over a hearty lunch - a break in the day that stirs up the mind and soul.
pigeon
Why peck at crumbs when I can feast?
sepia
She poses in plaid and jeans on a dusky field, her face framed with faded yellow hair.
spirited
In the back room of a storybook house that plays hide and seek among some trees, we talk about stories and poems. In the room the furniture is a hodgepodge of easy chairs, old sofas, and folding chairs that squeak beneath us as we lean forward and make our points; the light is low and warm, and a moth of some sort bangs around against the ceiling before crawling in shame-faced fashion between couch cushions.
swish
I amuse myself thinking of the trees as paintbrushes that have been swirled around in the brown, murky water of the pond.
I love these mellow gold mornings, when I go outdoors and the air has a bite to it, and the sun is out, and the trees shine with autumn. It seems like the most uncomplicated part of the day; everything is fresh and new. I'm not yet indoors somewhere chipping away at a pile of work. It's just me, my feet, my eyes, my roving mind, and I love taking it in - even if it's a short walk it feels like it takes up more space in time.
carmine
At sunset there is wine mixed into the waters of the estuary. The skies fade in a stupor.
marrowy
Good conversation is nourishing. Not just the usual small talk or discussion of minor practicalities, but meaty rambling conversation on all sorts of topics, over a hearty lunch - a break in the day that stirs up the mind and soul.
pigeon
Why peck at crumbs when I can feast?
sepia
She poses in plaid and jeans on a dusky field, her face framed with faded yellow hair.
spirited
In the back room of a storybook house that plays hide and seek among some trees, we talk about stories and poems. In the room the furniture is a hodgepodge of easy chairs, old sofas, and folding chairs that squeak beneath us as we lean forward and make our points; the light is low and warm, and a moth of some sort bangs around against the ceiling before crawling in shame-faced fashion between couch cushions.
swish
I amuse myself thinking of the trees as paintbrushes that have been swirled around in the brown, murky water of the pond.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)