fallen in the grass

necklace of the flock unclasped

warm beads flowing south

lattice clouds streaming

sizzling of the canvas,

branded by shadows

ice blue purple limbs,

braided extensions, lime buds

in strange communion

the harvest proving

not all blossoms are champagne

red and white flurries

potpourri sachets

and bonfire lit reflections

glancing north again

It's never easy

to be

far away

we miss the months

singed by the flames

of yesteryears...

the leaves and petals

drifted

over red

careless breath

given wing

till pooled

in dampened

fields

The roof still stands

though walls have caved

in faith

we stand

transfixed

a penny

beneath the water

lost in thoughts

for two pence

corroded

green again

calling

the kettle

whistling

blue

across the oceans

we've underestimated

one another

by several billion

seconds

each of us

flipping

for altered ego

Well? you say,

heads or tails...

we toss a wish

& for a moment

before the ripple

everything stays

the same

Oh my Plymouth Caravelle! 1987 four door sedan. She was a beauty in my eyes. She had about as much desirability as an aging movie star, but she maintained character and intrigue like a Bette Davis. Dignified, with the kind of thick enamel and shiny trim you don't see on cars anymore. She was my very first.

She sat unwanted in the back of a desperate strip mall used car lot. The half Mexican manager winked at us: "For you, $700." He really wanted to push the thing off the lot, seeing nothing in her. Apparently, she'd been taking up real estate too long without passing glances of interest.

I put in the full price in cash the next day without a second thought. I was sixteen. I was lucky with money despite the overall destitute finances of our family. The car was actually for my sister. She had the license and the potential of getting us places. But we quarreled like petty sheep dogs. Sister was pushing the limits of her independence past curfew, and our lovely Caravelle was a defining point of contention. In truth, she never took me anywhere. The real arguments were between her and Father, who was trying hard to guard the Southern Belle reputation, to the point that Sis was shown the door, and walked out on foot.

I was to inherit the car as soon as I got my license, an event that took much longer than expected for various reasons. And in the end, I drove her maybe twice on my own. Yes, indeed her existence in my driving life was very fleeting, though she was the car I passed my driver's test in. Father's car broke down beyond repair at that same time and of course there was no question that the Caravelle would be his replacement. We were, to be sure, grateful that she was fortunately there to keep us all tenuously afloat.

Her bulky white body coasted on clouds thanks to superior shocks that absorbed every bump in the road. We joked it was like driving the living room couch across the country roads. I regret I knew her so very briefly. And I can see how Father would fear this was one car for getting into trouble with...

Within a year of commuting Father to work, she blew something fatal in the engine. It would have to be rebuilt, and everyone shook their heads professionally and said she wasn't at all worth it. Father agreed. She had served out her youth and was hauled to the junk yard as a glamorous but no longer useful thing.

I seldom enter Challenges but felt it important for more Prosers to weigh in on the Tagging option, and I appreciate this opportunity from our friend voiceinthewind.

I have an unequivocal opinion on Tagging, en masse or individual. I strongly feel that the ability to Tag others on Prose is an invaluable feature, especially when considering the potential crosswires of opportunity... When a post is posted, and when a potential reader might have enjoyed it, are whens that may or may not align favorably. Tagging allows for ties to be made, continued, and strengthened. A post that is read, liked, or commented upon, lives longer in the Trending timeline. It only stands to reason that Prosers should identify their audience and reach out to them, whether few or many.

I believe this is of particular importance for posts that are entered outside of Challenges, or outside of Portals, as these posts disappear from viewing most quickly within the stream of new postings.

It seems to me that Tagging in comments is also very important, as a consistent practice. I know that it is sometimes redundant... if you are commenting to the primary Proser authoring the post, they will receive two notifications ("commenting on post," and "tagging in a comment"). However, new Prosers do not know this immediately!! If routinely posting Prosers omit this polite seemingly superfluous Tag, new Prosers cannot catch on to the Tagging system.

Also, I have noticed that if a Proser comments in response to a comment (indented below an original comment) we don't always receive a Notification, unless the respondent has also included a Tag. I note the discrepancy between my email notice, which does arrive signaling a comment was posted, and the corresponding lack of notification in Prose upon logging in.

As a relatively new Proser, I do not tag anyone in my posts, because my posts are few and far between for the most part, and truly I do not have a "list" of potentially interested parties.

I more frequently post Challenges and responses to entries within these. And if I may, lastly, I would like to clarify why it is that I always include the notation "no need to tag me," in my Challenge prompts:

I include the statement to free the potential entrant from fretting over this detail. I have observed that on clicking Enter, the challenge prompt description remains, but the "by who" disappears... meaning it would be necessary to click back to the general list of Challenges to check who posted the prompt? a hassle that might dissuade participation!

For myself, it is easy for me to see who has posted into the Challenge when I am logged in. I simply go to (my) Desk, in the menu column at left and click on my posted Challenge(s), click View, and select the sorting for Newest. I can quickly scroll down and know which posts I have not yet seen/ liked/ reposted/ commented on.

I love reading entries to Challenge prompts! and always make a point of responding promptly... with a Tag :)

And if you do Tag me, at any time, that is most kind and appreciated. Thank you.

This will be my last entry in our adventures with the Renovation.

While we are not completely moved with all things in/ out, there is enough underfoot to know that we are here not there, though I suppose for Humphrey the true mark will be moving the cats in, two of them, both very reluctant slow movers. Catching them will be a task in itself. Although they must have understood by now that something momentous is forthcoming.

Nevertheless from my humble ground view the Reno is over and the everyday has has begun anew. We are learning the quirks and limitations of the new 123 year old house. For instance, in today's minor heat wave, we have the disconnect of electric and phone cable.

"No Wifi?!" Said Humphrey thoroughly puzzled. I turned my head attentively. Wifi always sounds like a dog competitor to me. Rrrr...

"H, U, M ... that's M, yes like in Mary... P as in pumpkin..." and Humphrey is back on the robocall trying to get customer service for the phone line/ internet. He finally breaks through to a real person:

"We just got set up yesterday. Yes with our old equip... it's what?

No we were told to mail back the new package because it didn't have the router... The router. Yes ma'am. ....the computer system is trying to connect as new account?! No we are continuing our old...

Yes we checked all the connections. Yup, all plugged. No. No dail tone. We get an automated error message. Says phone is not set up....

Not till Saturday? by Noon? Well thank you. We appreciate that."

Humphrey gave my curls a tousle and sighed. He walked to the bathroom. Then down and up stairs again, changing a light bulb there, only to find moments later that the light on stairs has also gone out.

I think maybe it has to do with the air conditioner he turned on, and the shift in power consumption may have shorted a fuse... We'll have to have a look at the fuse box, but I know Humphrey is very tried from all the hauling...

"Tomorrow, Geo Beans, tomorrow...."

For now, we are home.

I enter this chapter only as a Marker of the passage of Time, as no work on the reno was actually done, and for good reason. It was Humphrey's birthday and we took a day off.

To celebrate, Humphrey took us to the Zoo. From the end of my leash, I watched my compatriots, behind glass, plexi, and metal... each of us eyeing with awe the ubiquitous chipmunk and sparrow... caught in our periphery.

Afterwards, we met up with some old friends at the Park. Again, I was struck by the palpable illusion of each of us chasing our own perception of Freedom.

* Author's Note: that I am unable to enter this Chapter as a part of the Book, because the Add Chapter option is missing in the Post Editor under the Options tab... maybe it will reappear after clicking Publish?