The lions huddle in their formation, walking tall and hunting with the confidence of their provision. The pride is the pack that roars at the sun’s descent an acknowledgment of their brethren sun parting and rising in another’s eyes. Their sense of pride resides within. An inherent knowledge that to…

Original children’s story written for https://tuttify.io/ Daffodil or daisy, pansy or primrose. They are all flowers in a garden, meadow, or even your home. Every flower is different. Every flower has its own gift. Their gifts come in many forms. From the way they look to the way they smell…

As the blossoms take center stage, a brown-breasted robin keeps me company atop a protruding granite beauty mark in a green meadow. She glances at me from the side of her beak, a trait of her weakness. Her genealogy protecting her from the likes of us straight gazed predators. A…

OctoColorFest As I walk the wind blows seemingly endlessly before me. As I reach the elm whose golden flakes dazzled me as they danced on the breeze, just ahead of me, gracefully touch the ground, where I am about to step. The wind is my flower girl, covering the walkway…

In the turning of the wheel of change, there is gold. There is development set in motion, and in this movement rises flickering specks of…

A rekindled affair — I thought I was living with myself just fine, that is until I started dating myself. Then I discovered an impetuous, touchy clingy appendage who, unlike everyone else I could shake off during shut down was totally inseparable. Let me back up. I, just like every other typical New Yorker…

Music by Honey Root

“This is an opportunity of a lifetime.” Rylie reminds herself. The elevator doors open and Rylie steps in with the rest of the morning toilers to reach their various destinations. “Good morning” is exchanged all around, a pleasantry that was not extended outside the climbing vehicle. Maybe it’s the involuntary…

The Storms Resolve In response to Weeds and Wildflowers writing prompt “Surviving the Storm” It comes rolling in like a forgotten memory. Hovering about in the sky to remind us that sunny days don’t last forever, the storm will not be ignored, it deserves its time of day. Its growl…