Once a House 
by Carrie Karnes-Fannin
(177 words)
 
She'd once been a house,
but that was long ago. She remembered
what it was like.
 
seasons
stacked memories,
piled like cordwood ahead of winter snows
 
For at her heart
were the trees.
 
timbers
people called them,
turning the black forest
into boards and rafters
 
And trees
never forget
those they’ve sheltered.
 
Chicks under the eaves
with broken shells clinging
to their damp heads.
 
Mice and their hidden highways
between golden paneled walls.
 
A girl’s laughter ringing in the hall,
and through the years.
 
she’d loved them all
 
But,
the wood reclaimed her
as its own,
while
 
time dripped down
slowly slowly
 
leafy crowns bathed by crystal rains
fed the tender roots
that coursed through cracks

twisting turning tasting
 
and drank deep from her well
of memories.
 
A thousand dappled suns
kissed her ruined walls,
casting shadows
among the saplings.
 
she loved them still
 
Now
under a frosty blanket,
her bones slept
 
yellow orange red
drifting falling dreaming
 
as the
once-and-future girl climbed,
ascending
echoes
 
of
the house
who used to be a home,
and would always
remember.

I am tickled pink to report that my non-fiction picture piece THE SENTINEL TREE was chosen as one of the Grand Prize winners in this year's #SunWriteFun contest! How cool is that?

​The true story is about the one and only baseball playing tree in America, including her part in the Civil Rights movement of the mid-1900s. It was my first attempt at writing anything sports related, so I'm extra happy with making it to the winners circle. 

Check out more about the contest & all the great stories here. www.karengreenwald.com/sunwritefun21-rules-entries

the night river
by Carrie Karnes Fannin

Let go.
 
Ship your single oar
and drift
on the night river.
 
Float
 
through
open gates
toward
rocky shoals,
eddies,
and
​
deep, salty
oceans.
 
(As
it’s said--
a
word
after
a
word
after
a
word
is
power.)


Each drop
alike.
 

None
quite
the same.


Borrow
a taste of milk
from other tongues.

Dip
your cup.
Drink deep.

Speak
for the pleasure
of savoring
each
 sound.
­­­
Dream
into being
your ancestral
songs
as you follow
 the water’s
ever-changing
line.
 
Leave
your
mother tongue
behind
and swim
in
the river of stars
above.

1. You are an unrepeatable miracle. Against all the odds, you came into existence in this time and this place. There will never be another quite like you.

2. You were born a maker. It is the human condition. From the time we’re born, we make marks (paper, walls, shoes, our own skin), sing songs, and dance. It never stops.

3. After doing what we need to make a living, we do what makes us LIVE. When you sing off-key in the shower or embarrass your kid in a grocery aisle by doing a little shimmy to the 80s Muzak, you are making art.

4. Making is abundance. Creativity begets creativity. There is no need to fear that “this” idea will be the last. Creation comes from us like beads on a string—one after the other.

5. Find joy in the fact that no matter when or where, you are a maker. Giving freely to the world from your creative abundance will make a circle of giving that never ends. Share and it will spark more in others. Give with an open hand—post pictures, share stories, be silly.
​
Make your mark.