Writing Prompt: Finish the potato salad story
I dove face down into the potato salad and…
You finish the story.
I dove face down into the potato salad and…
You finish the story.
Janet Grace Riehl and Erwin A. Thompson, father-daughter writing team TREASURE CHEST by Janet Grace Riehl from “Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary” He labors in the grove of service. Remembers flat tires, repaired. Loans proffered for crises. Then his somber face glows with the light of a thousand-watt angel. Memories of good turns returned is a…
Arletta Dawdy and I both belong to Women Writing the West. We became writing friends when we both lived in Northern California. My flash fiction piece “Triptych: Jeweled Bones” (in 3 parts) inspired her to write “Clara’s Air.” She sat down before bed and dashed off the story of Clara’s Air which captures an era,…
Poets. Org has a wonderful list of 30 things to do to celebrate poetry month (April, right?). 31) But, here’s one they haven’t thought of. My father, Erwin A. Thompson, encloses a poem along with his bill to the Great Central Lumber Company. The women down there enjoy this so much that when once he…
This message speaks to the inherent power of poetry, how we reach for necessary words at times when any words are difficult to find. The recent memorial service in Tucson concluded with a reading of W.S. Merwin’s poem “To the New Year.” We share this poem with you and wish you peace in the New…
The ides that our sense of self, which we usually assume to be relatively stable and enduring, is actually constructed anew each moment out of a ceaseless flux of thoughts images and sensations may be an interesting concept when we read about it, but when seen directly in meditation it becomes undeniably clear, and by…
Ernie Wormwood is a dear friend of my dear friend and collaborator, Stephanie Farrow. Ernie is a mother, animal lover, transformative meditator, and poet. She lives in Leonardtown, Maryland. Recently, she published in Poetic Voices Without Borders 2 and in The Poet’s Cookbook. You can hear Ernie read “The Poet and the Poem” on Grace…
Janet Grace Riehl and Erwin A. Thompson, father-daughter writing team TREASURE CHEST by Janet Grace Riehl from “Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary” He labors in the grove of service. Remembers flat tires, repaired. Loans proffered for crises. Then his somber face glows with the light of a thousand-watt angel. Memories of good turns returned is a…
Arletta Dawdy and I both belong to Women Writing the West. We became writing friends when we both lived in Northern California. My flash fiction piece “Triptych: Jeweled Bones” (in 3 parts) inspired her to write “Clara’s Air.” She sat down before bed and dashed off the story of Clara’s Air which captures an era,…
Poets. Org has a wonderful list of 30 things to do to celebrate poetry month (April, right?). 31) But, here’s one they haven’t thought of. My father, Erwin A. Thompson, encloses a poem along with his bill to the Great Central Lumber Company. The women down there enjoy this so much that when once he…
This message speaks to the inherent power of poetry, how we reach for necessary words at times when any words are difficult to find. The recent memorial service in Tucson concluded with a reading of W.S. Merwin’s poem “To the New Year.” We share this poem with you and wish you peace in the New…
The ides that our sense of self, which we usually assume to be relatively stable and enduring, is actually constructed anew each moment out of a ceaseless flux of thoughts images and sensations may be an interesting concept when we read about it, but when seen directly in meditation it becomes undeniably clear, and by…
Ernie Wormwood is a dear friend of my dear friend and collaborator, Stephanie Farrow. Ernie is a mother, animal lover, transformative meditator, and poet. She lives in Leonardtown, Maryland. Recently, she published in Poetic Voices Without Borders 2 and in The Poet’s Cookbook. You can hear Ernie read “The Poet and the Poem” on Grace…
Janet Grace Riehl and Erwin A. Thompson, father-daughter writing team TREASURE CHEST by Janet Grace Riehl from “Sightlines: A Poet’s Diary” He labors in the grove of service. Remembers flat tires, repaired. Loans proffered for crises. Then his somber face glows with the light of a thousand-watt angel. Memories of good turns returned is a…
Arletta Dawdy and I both belong to Women Writing the West. We became writing friends when we both lived in Northern California. My flash fiction piece “Triptych: Jeweled Bones” (in 3 parts) inspired her to write “Clara’s Air.” She sat down before bed and dashed off the story of Clara’s Air which captures an era,…
Poets. Org has a wonderful list of 30 things to do to celebrate poetry month (April, right?). 31) But, here’s one they haven’t thought of. My father, Erwin A. Thompson, encloses a poem along with his bill to the Great Central Lumber Company. The women down there enjoy this so much that when once he…
This message speaks to the inherent power of poetry, how we reach for necessary words at times when any words are difficult to find. The recent memorial service in Tucson concluded with a reading of W.S. Merwin’s poem “To the New Year.” We share this poem with you and wish you peace in the New…
The ides that our sense of self, which we usually assume to be relatively stable and enduring, is actually constructed anew each moment out of a ceaseless flux of thoughts images and sensations may be an interesting concept when we read about it, but when seen directly in meditation it becomes undeniably clear, and by…
Ernie Wormwood is a dear friend of my dear friend and collaborator, Stephanie Farrow. Ernie is a mother, animal lover, transformative meditator, and poet. She lives in Leonardtown, Maryland. Recently, she published in Poetic Voices Without Borders 2 and in The Poet’s Cookbook. You can hear Ernie read “The Poet and the Poem” on Grace…
I dove face down into the potato salad and…opened my mouth like there was no tomorrow, hoping I’d be the one to win the contest with my hands tied behind my back.
II dove face down in the potato salad and emerged with pickles for ears and an onion nose. So I hear sweetly and smell loudly.
I dove face down into the potato salad and swam around the potato boulders until I found a piece of celery to use as a raft. Then I floated along the mayonnaise, in quest of the perfect pickle, while great clouds of mustard swirled overhead.
I dove face down into the potato salad so that no one else would partake, and all would leave me free to search for my diamond engagement ring; Mama said there’d be days like this…………
i dove face down into the potato salad and what did i find there? oh my god, THAT’s where i had left my wedding ring!