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      kesnerfreds wrote a new post

      between the leaves

      “between the leaves”Midday.A shaded path beside the stream.The grass glows in the heat.Damp earth rises — sharp, clean —with a faint scent of wet bark.A first gustturns.A curl of dust rises at my feet.The air carries a metal tang.The...

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      FlatDaddy wrote a new post

      Mirror

      © 2025It shiversat my approach,each step toward reflectionwrinkles my arrivaldistorting is to was tilyesterme falls like bits of anvalsthudding in the sinkto break and curl and disappearsucked awayto lie on piles of yesterskinbeached upon some yestershore of me

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      8 Comments
      • What an interesting opening. The mirror shivers upon your approach. I like this.

      • Thank you, Fia. And Happy Holidays!

      • Some days I glance at the mirror and can’t figure out who the stranger is. Like the mirror has ripples. But it’s no funhouse. I felt this one

      • Mirrors don’t lie! It’s the cold hard truth when it comes to appearances.
        I enjoyed the piles of yesterskin!

        Merry Christmas!

        • Thanks, Addy (hope you don’t mind the short moniker). Hang on to some of that yesterskin, it could be worth something some day! Happy holidays!

      • Okay. I didn’t know the mechanics of it, but now I do. My ex wife couldn’t walk past a mirror without stopping to admire herself, but she might run past them now, what with all that yesterskin pilled up. You’re hittin’ on all eight, old man.

        • Ah, I think you, Sam, whoever you are. Where am I, anyway? What’s wrong with this TV? It’s got words all over it. Where the hell’s the game? Why am I typing the thing’s I’m thinking? Whzzzzxxrzpzzzz …

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      kesnerfreds wrote a new post

      hills to climb

      "hills to climb"     A figure counted once,standing where the verge breaks open.Word intact, meaning thinned,a marker left upright by habit alone.   Grass leans in, listening.Its tilt becomes direction,though the ground beneath itslides in its own quiet argument.   Your craft appears sideways—a pattern...

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      4 Comments
      • Nice.
        I was told ages ago that it’s a flaw in writing to give inanimate things the ability to do conscious things, like the grass leaning to listen, as if it knew to.
        Yet, I argued that in creative writing, comes a creative freedom to paint things in a different light. To give it that “as if”.
        That’s what makes it more interesting and even unpredictable.
        Well done poem here. I truly enjoyed it.

        • Took out the “as if” during the edit to tighten the line. It’s like jumping into coloured chalk floor paintings and let Mary Poppins take care of the rest. And yes, I was told that too. But then again poetic licence, freedom of speech and creative expression all say otherwise. Thanks for your much valued visit. Truly grateful for the word you left here as well. 🙏🕊️

      • Dear K,

        Even your summary waxes poetic. I enjoyed this piece because the inanimate had something to offer. It was a lovely image seeing and feeling the energy transfer from one thing to another throughout the write. Lovely piece. H🌷

        • Thank you, dear Honoria, for keeping that energy in transfer-flow. Now, even after the poem has rested from its reading a work it began continues on. Most appreciatively, K.

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      kesnerfreds wrote a new post

      our old stretch

      We gather with the year still warmfrom all the hands that shaped it,passing cups across the tableas if the work might start againthe moment someone nods,each of us carrying this stretch of our yearin pockets, boots, and notebooks.A creak...

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      kesnerfreds wrote a new post

      winters drift

      A window holds its breathas the day thins to a pale wash.Frost gathers at the corners,soft as dust. Someone walks past,coat brushing the airand sending in a brief drift of coldthat sharpens a thoughtthe way cold sometimes does—clean, immediate,quietly sure...

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