Twiglet #189

189-bloomingWhite
A twiglet’s aim is to “prompt” a thought. 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 comments should not be expected.

19 thoughts on “Twiglet #189”

  1. Blooming White

    No one drove truckloads of smoothed, khaki-colored stone
    from a yard of tumbling round-rock hills to a crude
    graded track, opened the dump gate, rolled out a road.
    Those tan, eroded gravels had been there all along,
    waiting to be uncovered again, feel the August sun
    and hard rainfall directly for the first time since
    an epoch before man drafted months and roads emerged,
    and solitary cars came along to kick dust into the air
    where it would hang above honeysuckle, blackberry,
    butterfly weed–a white bloom.

    Liked by 5 people

    1. There was a gravel road to my grandparent’s house. When I was a teenager I’d drive too fast down that road just for the sheer joy of “kick(ing) dust into the air where it would hang above honeysuckle, blackberry, butterfly weed–a white bloom.” I still see those plumes of white dust rolling in my mind’s rear view mirror.

      Liked by 3 people

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