Poetry, Fiction, History, Reviews, and More!
Grand Duke |
Grand Duke Vasili Yuergen stood on the parapet of Castle Hurin, his burly silhouette stark against the pink pre-dawn sky. A gusty wind tugged at the Grand Duke’s long, straggling, raven-black hair while the battlements clung to the night darkness. The castle perched on the edge of a mountain pass and the Grand Duke gazed into the darkness cloaking the chasm below as the adjacent jagged peaks had their snow-edged rock sharply illuminated by the still unseen sun.
From the chasm came the faint sound of battle; the clang of sword on sword, the thud of shields doing their work, the occasional agonized scream. As the light slowly pushed the shadows into the most remote recesses the sounds diminished and finally halted. Still the depths were hidden in darkness. The Grand Duke stood as a statue, patiently waiting. |
Quarantine
Day 32 of quarantine Of maybe thirty-nine The all run together I lost count, lost my tether Rise every morning, work Eat every meal with only a fork Video call with the kids Or was that only home vids? Reality is just a hazy fog Like walking a cat or a hog Nightmarish default Is an underground vault With rain pouring down An angry wet crown With no end in sight Hopeless barkeeper’s plight Please don’t mention rebound There creeps in a sound Can it be? Sunny day? On the street children play Bring the hope a summer More fun, less a bummer When the COVID runs out And we, too, can get out. |
Curiosity
The oak rustled and sighed, The bee zipped and buzzed And the owl watched and nodded. Curiosity is a vital thing Where it come from Is a secret well-kept But where it goes, Where it takes you, Is documented in a life. It is a greedy master It wants problems Big and small, obvious and obtuse, And an ever-expanding Box of tools, Self-created or acquired. Delicate yet resilient, It is a chimera and a rain drop, A tiny rivulet and a mighty river, All in one go. Quashed with a single word but Surviving a torrent of “didn’t work”. It is a rare thing; a beautiful thing To live a life of curiosity It is a rarer thing still To give a life of curiosity. In this there is a story, Perhaps your curiosity will find it. The oak rustled and sighed, The bee zipped and buzzed And the owl watched and nodded. |
Flash FictionThe land lay waiting. Spring had come with all the chaos of seeds bursting forth into new plants and old plants stretching their roots. Summer had come with all the activity that the warmth and the light brings to the myriad living things. Then fall had come with the frenetic work of the harvest and the winding down and retreating to a lazy, drifting rest for the plants and animals that would overwinter. And now the land itself was ready for its long winter nap, happy to rest, at least for a season.
Unpublished, by Greg Schroeder |
Me (a bit younger than I am now)! contact me with comments, suggestions, helpful hints...
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