
- Details
- Written by Super User
- Category: Eric
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They came by stealth
Any tine of the day, till full dark
But never head high
Always low, near the ground.
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- Written by Super User
- Category: Eric
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He was trying to make a chess piece.
It was his way of challenging himself
Of fitting in with the others busy making things
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- Written by Super User
- Category: Eric
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The storm passed,
a great storm,
full of violence and majesty
Clouds breaking, a little
Sun peaking through shining in patches of gold
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- Written by Super User
- Category: Eric
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Hammers pounding, scoring leather
The scrape of knives on wood
creating chess pieces or arrows or other
shapes of personal interest.
Spinning wheel and clay and water,
producing a pot, bowl, or vase
Brush on canvas, a splash of color
Soon a painting.
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- Category: Eric
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He was young, 12 years or so
Typical string bean of those who will be tall.
A mop of curly, mousy blond hair
Under a red ball cap
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