Inside My Shell

How much sky can I hold in an empty cup or moon on the tip of my tongue?
I pray to light, wings, and the darkness within me to hold my legs firm when every step taps the spine of inquest… What about tomorrow?
My shell of walls and windows grows heavier with every sunset.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
Flash Fiction Friday 55 ~ March 2020
Poetry is my journal. I write out what I can't keep in. Some days are dark..Some days are light. I created the image through Gimp's photo program. Do I know what I'm doing? No...I've never used Gimp before, but Google is guiding me to instruction. I'm always trying to learn something new.

Swimming the Unknown

These are days that require I swim, to breathe under water, to float tears I can’t shed, and be strong enough to reach an unknown shore.
I struggle in the power of the current, fear the length of the storm. In my weakest hour I rally memories of what I’ve overcome.
Peace waits in the raging with open arms.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
Artistic Interpretations #2 ~ Pond Lillies


I ask for a cup of hot tea, black with a twist of lemon.
Apparently, it’s snobbish to want it brewed instead of a spoonful of rushed.
To the waitress I’m just another customer the highway dropped between eggs over easy and a stack of pancakes.
With a tired eyeroll she places a teabag floating in hot water on the table and grumbles, “Will there be anything else?”
I left the rest of my argument on the tip of my tongue and drank the bitter taste of the middle of nowhere.
There’s a Chevy truck outside the window waiting to take me away. She’s a double shift into survival. 
©Susie Clevenger 2020
Poets and Storytellers Writer's Pantry #11

Twisted Outback

The wolf reads my state of mind like it was a plump unaware child.
A true friend, she knows what I’ll say before it bleeds from my tongue, and will nip at my heels to keep me from chasing dead ends.
We survive the twisted outback of misinformation by weighing what we know against the desire to waste precious air.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
The Sunday Muse #96

Pouring Water Into a Pessimist

Can I swim the desert where the sea died or does sand filled lungs fear drowning?
Out where my echo coughs with grit tomorrow is an erasure wind condemned to whisk a footprint’s progression into the mirage of never begun.
Hope is a doorway placed in the middle of empty to pour a glass half full.
The why is known…The can be encouraged.
I am a river of one hoping to become a flood filled with dreamers.
©Susie Clevenger 2020

The Sunday Muse #92
Poets and Storytellers United ~ Writer's Pantry #4

Winter's Kiss ~ Haiku

first winter blown kiss delicate frosting of love echoes through snowflakes
©Susie Clevenger 2020

Carpe Diem #1797 New Beginnings ~ First Snow

Writing My Sky

With the pity of seagulls this human rock flew a puppet’s journey where mist swallows marsh.
In the birdsong of capture I felt gravity’s war with sky.
Through palms clutching air the wind read my fortune…
Your wings are feathers of ink. If you wish to soar the heavens, don’t build a cage with empty pages.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
Sunday Muse #89