Category: Issue 24.2

Congratulations to our writing prompt winner, Claudette Russell, and welcome to a new season of tinywords with the start of issue 24.2.

bookwormhole  

lost river childhood memories gone underground  

all the way back to childhood cabbage whites  

sweet peas gone to seed summer’s end

the slow curve of summer zucchini

learning to let go – late summer roses  

roadside assistance Queen Anne’s lace brightening my mood

in tall grass road signs for the diner closed last year

summer dusk the call and response of neighbors  

first furnace run the smell of summer gone fills the house  

Indian summer someone blowing on the embers

farmers market a hummingbird foraging in the flower stall

a whiff of music from a tasseled truck harvest season  

silence stretches across the mesa raven calls my name  

drought a cactus wren sips from the garden hose

In the sound of the prairie marbled Godwit

prairie soil- digging through the family archives  

maples disrobing the harvest moon  

yellowing maple— I feel for my bald spot  

checkers in the park… an acorn cap fit for a king  

Queen’s wave brittle oak leaves swivel in the morning gust  

outdoor café floating to my table a bubble of laughter

she doesn’t have a playground voice sweet violet  

my first kiss around here somewhere ghost pipes  

fall colors I ask my hairdresser to add highlights  

zig-zagging the trail to walk in shadows— what I can’t confess  

the kettle whistles up a flickering shadow night owl

November first putting my skeletons back in the closet

fresh snow on old our argument resumes  

nightly news between my neighbour and me a higher fence

moss the quietest of revolutions

peeling an apple — the sudden twist in my destiny

war-zone dawn the out of place pink  

Cusp I awake in the dark of a strange room. My first time back to this country in years. A plane rumbles above. The window is where the door should be. My body and mind are

a mural we won’t see again airport sunrise  

coral clouds— each blink of jet lights recolors the sky

weekend getaway my cat packs himself

walking by the old house — our buried dog flowering  

hospital receptionrosy clouds driftin a painting  

rootbound— the new treatment stops working

brain cards i shuffle the fog

time enough to listen to a joke senior center  

the lure of you . . . driving the coast road home

strawberry rhubarb some marriages just work

berry picking our conversation

family cookout she swallows a sharp retort  

one dessert two forks all the wrong turns turning out right

arriving without a suitcase spring rain     (Originally published in MacQueen’s Quinterly, Issue 22: 4 Feb. 2024)  

saying yes to no rainy day plans  

a river stone in my pocket chrysalis  

river rock erosion I sit for a few angstroms  

tadpoles a fleet tickles through my fingers

dragonfly wings more there than meets the eye  

night garden white lanterns powered by sun  

the indigo of approaching dawn last rites  

the flight home longer than the miles dad’s funeral

expanse of snow unmarked the place my grandparents crossed over  

time on hold faces in a shoebox  

wilted rose petals a love letter full of clichés

rose garden how many loves are possible  

the hay’s first turn the loose scent of centuries

solstice picnic the arc of a horseshoe  

first snow . . . our neighbors turn on their party lights  

the wishbone heart of winter  

advent calendar in every window more juncos  

one more dialect of silence… snowfall     (Originally published in Acorn, Issue 51, Fall 2023)

errors in the translation winter rain

pouring rain the leaky roof has its own song

slide of the crooner year’s end

turn of the year my  d w i n d l i n g address book  

oars shipped a long look back at last year

rewilding the yard I give back some of what I took  

summer blues the drooping mopheads of the hydrangea

where the river steps out of its body summer fog  

garden catalog I order some irises called Butterflies in Flight

children’s laughter the colour palette of pool noodles  

the sky in a box bluebird

ending my day on a high note red-winged blackbird  

until we meet again spring rain