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.
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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.
We said goodbye to Ms. Claire Bear yesterday. It was our privilege to have her with us for almost nine years and to see her off into the Universe when the time came.
Thank you for stopping by awhile, Claire. You were a very good girl. ![]() 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. |