A place to share my writing with you, the readers.
Billowy Billows White Fluffy Pillows Puffy or Flat Misty Zeppelins Blanketing Overhead Cumulus's Fluff Can Make For Wet Weather Nebulous's Haze Makes Visibility Vexing Stratus's Layers Lay Near to the Earth Veteran Sailors Give Nimbostratus Wide Berth Cumulonimbus's High Thunderheads Pay Homage to a Norse God Whose Lightning Bolts Evoke Approbation And Remaining Outdoors Requires Grave Consideration
A fresh sapling, young and new, grows among its ancestral kin. Their roots join to form an ancient web of communication, sharing nutrients through their communal networks. Symbiotic relationships, tree root and fungi combine. A complex grid exists beneath the forest floor. The sapling rises to the light. Its branches extend toward the sun's illumination. It will struggle to survive in the dense woods among its ancestral kin. The sapling will adapt, as living things tend to do. Perhaps it will outlive the rest.
The Baobab Tree
She pressed her palms against the ancient oak.
Spanish moss hung down
grey and curly, like the hair of an elder woman she once knew.
Rivulets of blood stained the bark,
hundreds of stains mingled,
the essences of a hundred men and women.
She remembered the baobab tree in her village,
the one where the children prayed.
The community matriarch told tales of ghouls,
white, snatching their people up,
violating their women and girls.
Their men were roped like the beasts
that stalked the edges of their village in the night.
The baobab tree witnessed it all-
the ghouls with their explosive weapons shouting.
The ancient oak wept blood.
The baobab wept, too.
Ode to a Microwave
Why, oh Microwave,
Is my platter so hot?
My food’s edge is smoldering,
Yet the center is not.
Your micro wave power,
Is impressive indeed.
But fully warmed chowder
Is what my mouth needs.
My fingers are seared
From touching this bowl,
My flesh you left blistered,
And my dinner, left cold.
Donnell Creppel 2015
