A Vagabond Voices writing and living prompt.

What keeps you writing
into the sleepless
night, pillows wrinkled,
tossed aside?
Or in broad daylight, while out
the window the world stirs you
with its leaves and falling, fading light —
what brings you to sit and scribble?

What makes you pen…

Reading with other writers…

I just need to start reading again.

Someone in our creative community said that to me recently.

And I knew exactly what she meant.

For some of us, it’s a little like saying we need to start breathing again. Or living again.

It never ceases to amaze me: the way…

Poetry from the world and within

skyward we glimpse reflected
water falling off the many faces
of the valley, roaring, singing,
reflecting, laughing, humming us
into being. We say we are
striving ever
upward, to touch
a summit or mountaintop, but the damp and quiet
truth is, we want to sink into
the mud on the path…

A poem gathered while ‘stepping away’

Walking alone
a young girl will wander
off the path where she is collecting
Larchwood cones to flavor her
sugar in winter
but the boughs
frame a window and
behind it
the world and the river
singing she slips off
the path and her shoes
moist feet fall on…

A Vagabond Voices writing and living prompt

What would happen…
if you stepped away
from the swirling
thoughts, the words that won’t
fly from your pen, the dreams
that linger and sulk
far off like clouds ready
to rain on someone

What if you pulled your prickling, sleeping
flesh and moved, what if…
your mind also went

Micro-stories and people watching at the lake

Woman in the Rocks

The rock lumped behind her head, flesh piled in rounded river stones, water rippling at the pebbles of her toes. Once upon a time, they asked her if she would still go sunbathing with that belly. If not now, when? Many floods later, body piled by the boulders, grandchildren floating…

Poetry found in Breasts and Eggs by Mieko Kawakami

I remember drawing things
like this:
a whole world of dandelions
where we are safe from the hard things
and if calamity

creeps up, we simply lift off,
thin, soft layers fluttering

above countless
winking lights. …

A Vagabond Voice Writing and Living Prompt

What is your polyglot dream?
To be held in arms that reach
across the globe, whispered
on lips and tongues at once
own and
other? To know one more
language. Or all,
why not, what is a dream if not

What is…

A Vagabond Voices writing and living prompt.

Do not
forget that you are
body, stable state and liquid
sifting, solid fleeting
light and shadow, footprint
on mud and mud
on sole, you set out: a step, then
the other and nothing is
as you left it. I wonder,
when you…

Poetry, flavors, and the past

This drink is simple:
ingredients and acts. Climb
the trees in dust that cycles
from soil, to air, to skin.
Salt and earth — not a pinch,
but a coating, finely sifted.
Dangle, reach for
the pale fruits, that hang
on branches bending under
your bare feet. Mind
the thorns. Grab the…

Trisha Traughber

Immigrant, bilingual, mother, teacher, book-worm, writer. Life is better when we create - together.

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