Collected Strands

Restless a.m.


Ayes running through my mind’s eyes like little cottontails scrambling into the brambles.

Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Robins bobbling around for worms.

The only animals appearing sleepy are tethered. A dog walking a human.

A clot of hair collects about a nail head that is pounded into the railing.

I suppose it is mine.

Strands tugged a’loose like feathers, after the daily ritual of:

arrive home, sit outside, and, let the waves down.

Like little feathers lost only to be reassembled into

a new configuration.

A merkin for the metal.

Author: writtencasey

I am fascinated by the scientific endeavor and I read about or engage with those processes as much as possible. I am a compulsive reader and writer. With a background in anthropology and as an arm-chair/backyard scientist, I hope to improve my writing skills and learn about any areas of weakness or misunderstanding in my analytic skills. I am excited to share. Thank you for spending time here. Please reach out if you are so inclined. I'd be excited to hear from you.

4 thoughts on “Collected Strands”

    1. Thank you, kindly. I went back to the area I used to inhabit and walked some miles in the nature preserve. By the salmon ladder. As I exit I pass a man with a dog. The man holds the leash in his hand and the dog held the leash in his mouth. Who is walking who: I think.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Whom, exactly. I went to a pub to watch and listen to Big Liver (sic) and the barmaid was a man, but the best looking woman in town. We danced, briefly, and Big Liver and the locals thought it amusing, but I thought, who is walking who(m)? Then I went home and listened to Sally Can’t Dance. Good work, writtencasey. xx

        Liked by 1 person

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