Twiglet #45


A twiglet is a short phrase. Or a word. Maybe two. Its aim is to “prompt” a flow. A thought. A memory. If something comes to mind, write. A polished piece isn’t the goal; creativity is. Leave a link, if you’d like your work read, but note that comments should not be expected. Twiglets are posted on Tuesdays.


25 thoughts on “Twiglet #45”

  1. Sorry Not Sorry

    Your apology falls like fine crumbs
    from crisp crackers, clumps like
    chocolate cake speckles white icing,
    like day old bread offered to birds.
    They are the words sprinkled in
    and among the ‘I’m sorry’
    but, if, again… excuses that let
    you off the hook with yourself.
    I’m getting my broom to sweep
    away these crumbs, you included.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Remains of the Day

    We walk through the singing rustle of fallen leaves,
    our boots brush them by as if the wings of eagles.
    And blind-eyed fog curls along the creek
    as autumn’s remains turn into fine wet crumbs.

    Liked by 3 people

      1. Our trees are mostly oak and lime (not the fruit), and goodness me they are dropping like rain off the branches right now. They haven’t even turned colour yet, and they’re dropping. Far too early. I think the trees are stressed.


    1. The first colors are the mix yellows from the willows, small ash and the horse chestnuts.
      The oaks or some other early dropper have all turned brown and crunchy.
      Just getting some oranges…. maybe some of the trees that are supposed to be reds… just turning.

      Liked by 2 people

Comments are closed.