Category Archives: Prescott
An independent woman
A solo traveler takes pictures of the courthouse, Prescott, Arizona
An independent woman
Will always speak her mind;
Perhaps you even know one—
They’re not that hard to find.
For independent women
Seek this in all their deeds:
To follow their own compass,
No matter where it leads.
Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Independence”
Blue Monday: Monsters
A mosaic dinosaur footprint at Prescott Public Library, Prescott, Arizona
Monsters, monsters everywhere,
On the land, and in the air!
Monsters with great clumsy feet!
Monsters you don’t want to meet!
Stay away from monster land!
Stay away from where they stand,
Lest you fall beneath their feet,
And your downfall be complete!
Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
Blue Monday: Trail Marker
Trail marker at Willow Lake, Prescott, Arizona
Off we go on the mile-high trail,
Off we go with a shout!
Following signs marking the way,
We know what we’re about.
Perhaps we will glimpse a hobbit,
Or maybe soaring hawks—
These are the hopes that sustain us
On long and winding walks.
Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
Her birthday
Painting of a grand celebration (maybe a birthday!), Prescott Public Library, Prescott, Arizona
Her birthday,
crammed with memories,
one in particular:
rising at the meadowlark’s song
to walk across the dew-drenched grass,
her feet bare and cold and wet,
humming little nonsense tunes
to greet the light, bolder now
than when she’d left the house,
turning to see him at the window,
her ancient father;
how small he looks,
how like a cattail reed,
brown and brittle
at summer’s end—
and then he is falling,
clutching at his breast,
sailing off beyond the morning light,
the midday light, every light
there ever was or will be.
Pulling her phone from her skirt
pocket, she calls her friend:
“It’s over now. Come.
Come quickly.”
More Ruby Tuesday Too
More Sunday’s Whirligig #114
More Poetry Pantry #356 at Poets United
Picture this
Detail from an outdoor mural, Prescott Public Library, Prescott, Arizona
Picture this:
a woman
full of innocence
finds herself
trapped
in a confining marriage.
She thinks to herself:
I am capable
of escaping this maze
and pursuing my dreams,
even though the huffing monster
edges closer and closer—
and she does!
Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Macro Monday 2
More Sunday’s Whirligig #113
More Poetry Pantry #355 at Poets United
Writing
A man sits at a picnic table, perhaps writing poetry, in the courthouse square, Prescott, Arizona
The writing man—who is he?
Text and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Six-Word Saturday
More Shadow Shot Sunday 2
More Sunday Scribblings 2: “Who”
Coyote
Detail from a mural, Prescott Public Library, Prescott, Arizona
Coyote couldn’t care less
About the crimson blooms,
Because he’s stalking field mice
Cowering in their rooms.
If he should see a flower,
Coyote passes by;
His single-minded passion
Is making mince-mice pie!
Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
More Macro Monday 2
More Ruby Tuesday Too
More Midweek Motif at Poets United: “Flowers”
Blue Monday: Footprint
A simulated dinosaur footprint, Prescott Public Library, Prescott, Arizona
Something left a footprint,
Left it in the dirt;
Something left a footprint,
Something that can hurt;
Something that is bigger
Than a dog or cat;
Something that is stronger
Than a rabid rat.
I’ll avoid that something,
So no harm will come
To my toes, knees or nose,
Neither to my bum!
Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
It is much too cold today
A worker wields a hammer in this detail from a mural, Prescott Public Library, Prescott, Arizona
It is much too cold today
to picnic with the ancestors.
Even the finches agree,
and they chase us away
from our customary spot
among the headstones.
We decide to visit
the little museum
by the bus station,
where two paintings,
balanced
carefully
side by side,
hang on one wall.
The first
depicts a carpenter
pounding nails
into a baby’s coffin,
while his scrawny apprentice
daubs paint on it.
In the second, a more
hopeful scene,
a brittle old man
smiles for the camera.
After all,
what does he have to lose?
More Macro Monday 2
More Sunday’s Whirligig #111
More Poetry Pantry #353 at Poets United
Blue Monday: Courthouse Lawn
A man watches passersby from his perch on the courthouse lawn, Prescott, Arizona
Sitting on the courthouse lawn
Sunday afternoon,
Hoping that my love will come,
Hoping she’ll come soon.
Sitting on the courthouse lawn,
Counting passersby;
Here she comes, my lovely one—
Can you hear me sigh?
Poem and photo © 2017 by Magical Mystical Teacher
