Sara had a secret habit of reading, especially on rainy nights; huddled under a knitted blanket, getting the shakes as she devoured a murder mystery. Sometimes a bright flash would shine in the window glass and she would picture vivid scars on the murdered victim, in a twist of a nightmarish dream when she dozed off. These dreams and images often occurred when thunder joined the flashes of light. Sara’s mother wondered why her daughter woke up more tired than when she went to bed, but Sara kept it to herself.
The jewel on the dog’s clasp for his leash shone so bright that its reflection on the icy path was hindering Joe’s sight. He was temporarily blinded, letting the dog run free as he dropped the leash. He had just earned his dad’s trust by finding this collar kit in the pet shop, and his dad let him take the lead on their dog. Until he was blinded by the sun, ice and jewel, Joe thought he aced his dad’s approval. Now as they both ran to find the free running pet, Joe knew he hadn’t a ghost of a chance to hold the tether by himself again.
Grab the closest book. Close your eyes, open to a random page, and point at a random sentence. Write a post starting with that sentence.
You wake up to find yourself in your five-year-old body and back in time. How do you spend your first 24 hours in this situation?
What is the question that best defines your internal struggle to understand life? Do you think you’ll ever be able to answer that question? Why or why not?
This Wednesday is Ash Wednesday, the first day of the Lenten season. If you observe Lent, what is your voluntary act of penance (e.g. giving up candy)?
I chose number 4:You wake up to find yourself in your five-year-old body and back in time. How do you spend your first 24 hours in this situation?
***
At five years old I was enrolled in first grade so most of my day was spent in a one room schoolhouse. But after I got home, I had chores to do and then I was free to enjoy the country life, running and playing on our two hundred acre farm that included great meadows, stone formations, streams and brooks, berry bushes and strawberry patches, and a huge forest. This was ideal for me and if I was to stay close to the house, I could investigate above the garage where newborn kittens never ceased, take a swing (which was my favorite) and watch the variety of birds in the tree.
Without further ado, today we write about cycles of transformation. Anything will do, but your poem needs to have a beginning, middle, and end. Here are some ideas to get you started, but feel free to think up your own. Get creative!
caterpillar to butterfly tadpole to frog life cycle of a jellyfish life cycle of a coral reef life cycle of a car battery life cycle of a star your favorite sweatshirt
***
She said “‘course you can wear that color”, purchase was made
Your burgundy color was permanent, never started to fade
I wore you through the seasons, ‘cause I never liked a coat
You are the perfect covering and upon you I do dote
Now years later, your soft yarn stretched, making holes
But I always choose you, no matter what the weather doles
The sleeves are nicely long and you might expect
I use them as gloves, the extra length I respect
Sadly now your worn, soft fiber bulk that was used
Shows careless use of hangars – certainly abuse
Still you are my favorite and I will always choose
You as my comfort, if deciding to take a snooze
Someone may say, you need to toss that sweater, dear
But no new one could compare, and I’ll keep you always near.
The style and form of your poem are up to you. I would just like you to be in your chosen element: run barefoot on the earth; fly through air; burn with fire; or swim in water.
It seemed we were locked in time. We all gathered outside when the power went out and all my friends and I could hear were echos of our own voices. It only lasted a few seconds, showing us (It’s power) and then it started to fade. It didn’t take us long to run back to our tents, shivering with fear. Someone else will be in charge of Senior Night next year!
The Bag Lady 
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