An Offering of Love and Pride

I hunt this morning in the rain

Aware of my village duty

A deer is waiting to be slain

Her gift of spirit to me again

In all her sovereign beauty


She waits in stillness by the tree

And listens to the whippoorwill

I think her bounty just for me

To fill the hunger of the three

Who wait beyond the distant hill


The fragrant earth gives up a scent

And sends a message to the sky

I listen now, my ear is bent

A moment more the deer has lent

She does not know the reason why


I take a stance and aim my bow

She wonders who is standing there

I ponder why she will not go

And think in vain to tell her so

She only sighs and does not care.


I loose an arrow straight and true

It finds its mark upon her side

She looks to me from whence it flew

And dying now her heart run through

An offering of love and pride.

flash fiction

A Light in the Dark

Pickin’, pickin’, green plants bustin’ with red fruit, every forever day.

Spittin’ blood, wipin’ sweat, cadgin’ the life outa him.

Master Red houndin’ him.  “Go boy, you two boxes behind.”

No schoolin’ today, no schoolin’ tomorrow, schoolin’ a dream gone by.

Hands crampin’, fingers blisterin’, nails splittin’, sun pourin’ down.  Gotta fill them boxes, gotta rid that debt.

“Don’t go bruisin’ that fruit, boy.  You be payin’ at the dock.  Heft that box; it be full up.  Here’s another,” say Red.  “Fill it afore break and yer back on quota.”

Tired’a Red, always wantin’ more.  Sick’a Red, wishin’ him dead.

Bendin’, kneelin’, pickin’, back on quota, God knows.

Speaker callin’ break.  Sittin’ back, breathin’ bad air, thinkin’a Jenny.  Soft yellow hair, snub nose, kissin’ lips, too tired for much more.  Stronger’n him, smarter’n him, sweeter’n ten flats of berries.

Night comin’ on.  Kissin’ Jenny in the dark.

Red buttin’ in.  “You two havin’ a good time?  Your grandma know, Artie?”

“Not your business, Red,” Jenny say.   Waves him away.   Had some doin’s with him before.

“One more kiss and that’s all,” Jenny say.

Another day just the same.  Out before sunup, back after dark.  Washin’ in the trough, diggin’ at the nails, scrubbin’ the sweated clothes, thinner every wash.

Grandma Zamora, a light in the dark, settin’ table, keepin’ him alive.  Meetin’ Jenny, one more kiss.

Lickin’ those lips, tastin’ that juice, livin’ in hope every day, every forever day.

women warriors

Pussy Riot Warrior Women Rule

Nadezhda Tolokonnkova and Maria Alyokhina

I salute you:

Putin jailed you; they set their police dogs on you; they fire-hosed you; they lied and denounced you to the world community; they jailed you again.  You wrote songs and sang them on the steps of the Orthodox Church.  You admonished the clergy for throwing in with the Putin regime.

Still, you continue to pursue the fight against the terrible conditions and unfair jailing of the oppressed.  You are the great warriors of the present day.  You are the Harriot Tubmans, the Rosa Parks, the Martin Luther Kings, and the hundreds of warrior men and women over the years who have given their lives in the fight against oppression.

I read and stand in awe of the works of Alice Walker.  Still alive, she continues the fight.  Nadez and Maria, you are her children.

God bless you and keep you well.