Dad

Dad

I, perched on the arm
of the chair
he, comfy in its embrace
the book open on his lap
in a voice resonant with music
he read.

Night after night
until eyelids closed
then opened and closed again.

That wonderous gift
given kindly with love
for words
for literature
for me.


for more poetry and prose inspired by the above prompt see Magpie Tales. Top photo courtesy of Willow. Second photo from my family archives. Me and Dad of course.

A Fable fragment #2 Magpie Tales

drew on my sweater and slipped my feet into my sandals. My room was on the top floor of a tall tower. The stairs descended in a narrow spiral. The steps were old and worn from the many feet that descended before me.

Down, down, down I crept. Impossible to hurry. Somewhat dizzying. Think Jimmy Stewart in Vertigo. When I at last reached the foyer, immediately I faced myself. Two doors made of large mirrors stood sentinel. The guardians at the gate.

I ran my hands around the wooden door frame, searching for a knob. Nothing. I pressed my hands and then the full force of my body against the mirrors. Nothing. Unlike Alice, I could not find my way through the glass. No surprise. I had tried to leave at least 10.5 times before and never found the magic words or key to unlock the doors.

I stood back and stared at my self. A thin, gray-haired aging hippie dressed in a patchwork skirt and black turtleneck that had lost its spring. Cloisonne earrings dangled against my cheek, my face looked haggard and pale. The small rose tattoo on my left ankle was barely discernible.

"Let me out, " I whispered to the guardians. I tempted them with the wad of dollar bills I carried in my skirt pocket. I danced. I sang. I told a joke. The mirrors merely reflected back my inadequacy. In frustration I......

Click here to read other Magpie Tales written using the mirror photo as a prompt.

click here to read fragment #1 of my fable