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Photo Play 2: Air, Breath, Wind

By Heather Eure 21 Comments

There are moments when the air is still, silent. There are moments that leave us breathless and still. Last week, through photos and words, each contribution from our community captured a moment in time with air, breath, wind.

In this photograph, S. Etole illustrates a scene of a long-forgotten windmill, stark against bare branches and a cloudy sky. You can almost hear it creak to the playful nudge of the north wind.

air, breath, wind

Darlene captured the quiet serenity of a humble piece of fabric draped over a clothesline, its well-worn and tatty edges wave hello in the breeze.

air, breath, wind

Thanks to everyone who also participated with poetry. Here’s part of a poem from Bethany we enjoyed:

Remember our laugh?
That sudden air gush,
lung-crush of hilarity
that roared from our cheeks–while
everyone else held their
breath?

—by Bethany

PHOTO PLAY 2 POETRY PROMPT:  Find inspiration from one of the photographs you see here and respond with a poem. Share it with us in the comment box below.

***

Be sure to check out the highlights from Photo Prompt participants on the Photo Play Pinterest board! And keep clicking and/or playing with words. 🙂

Feature photo by Donnie Nunley. In-post photos by S. Etole and Simply Darlene. Creative Commons license via Flickr. Post by Heather Eure.

________________________

Sometimes we feature your poems in Every Day Poems, with your permission of course. Thanks for writing with us!

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Heather Eure
Heather Eure
Heather Eure has served as the Poetry Editor for the late Burnside Collective and Special Projects Editor for us at Tweetspeak Poetry. Her poems have appeared at Every Day Poems. Her wit has appeared just about everywhere she's ever showed up, and if you're lucky you were there to hear it.
Heather Eure
Latest posts by Heather Eure (see all)
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Filed Under: Air and Wind, Blog, Photo Play, Photography prompts, Poems, poetry, poetry prompt, poetry teaching resources, writing prompts

Comments

  1. Monica Sharman says

    March 16, 2015 at 12:58 pm

    Here’s one to go with Darlene’s photo:

    Don’t zip on a windbreaker,
    synthetic strands machined
    into tense fabric
    armoring what can’t breathe.
    Don the linen, its own threads
    loosely gathered, covering
    yet allowing the wind
    to breeze through.

    Reply
    • Monica Sharman says

      March 16, 2015 at 1:06 pm

      … and here’s a #haiku #micropoetry version I tweeted 🙂

      linen fibers
      organic threads woven
      wind breezes through

      Reply
      • Bethany R. says

        March 16, 2015 at 2:22 pm

        I’m glad you enjoyed that poem. Thanks for reposting it here. 🙂

        Monica, I just love the haiku. My wedding theme inspiration was linens hang drying in the breeze over grassy hills (wheat grass, white and cream flowers, linen dresses).

        I wish I could buy a print of Darlene’s picture with your poem written on/below it. Lovely.

        Reply
      • Simply Darlene says

        March 18, 2015 at 9:05 am

        iLike.

        Reply
      • Elizabeth Marshall says

        March 20, 2015 at 10:39 am

        Beautifully simple.
        Simply beautiful.
        love this

        Reply
      • Richard Maxson says

        March 21, 2015 at 12:06 pm

        I can feel the breeze in Darlene’s photo and your haiku. I remember the smell of line dried clothes when I was a kid.

        Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      March 23, 2015 at 2:43 am

      Good poem, Monica!
      …machined into tense fabric… I can *feel* it! Must. Break. Out the linens. Ugh. Can’t wait till warm days and wrinkled flax.

      This is also why people streak. Your words inspire freedom.

      Reply
  2. Richard Maxson says

    March 16, 2015 at 3:56 pm

    http://tinyurl.com/lf6ghfs

    Myth of Wings

    It is not enough to leave the ground.
    You know this—what you imagine is real—

    the dark fish leaps, armor softens
    into flight: yet, the sea pools in a raven’s wing,

    the bent world turns impossibly: look
    even the angels are drawn to its cage,

    slights of hand, tricks of light, it’s not enough
    merely to fly—

    listen: in the frail air
    above the earth, where all cries are whispers,

    the falcon, feathered hyphen, rises,
    vanishes in the illusion of morning blue.

    Ask yourself, what is this, if neither wing nor eye.

    Reply
  3. Donna Z Falcone says

    March 17, 2015 at 12:30 pm

    Best thing about clothes
    dried in summertime’s breath
    is they way that you smell
    wearing them.

    Reply
    • Simply Darlene says

      March 18, 2015 at 9:04 am

      i agree!

      Reply
  4. Simply Darlene says

    March 18, 2015 at 9:04 am

    Thank ye for including my image here! Here’s the double haiku I’d penned for the initial prompt (of air, breath, wind):

    elastic topped, sheer

    silk, lace-edged, rides high among

    black skirts, button-ups,

    jeans, faded towels, bed

    sheets – wooden clipped to clothesline –

    quivering, a slip.

    Reply
  5. Simply Darlene says

    March 18, 2015 at 9:15 am

    for the windmill pic by S. Etole — another double haiku:

    when wind blew more than
    power for water’s lifting,
    the dust bowl stayed too

    long – people fled, left
    homesteads, traveled west or pulled
    inside, went crazy

    Reply
    • Donna Z Falcone says

      March 18, 2015 at 5:04 pm

      Darlene… this brought so much to mind. Wind can be a welcome breeze or a destructive force. All that emptiness that remained after the wind… I really like this, and it reminds me of a song that I’ve loved for so long. Nanci Griffith’s Trouble in The Fields. Have you heard it? I found it on youtube in case you’d like to listen. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r0y-ZJJRb_M&index=8&list=PLBNqizG8xrRD569z-ZxgVr0FVDqXYbmFd

      Reply
      • SimplyDarlene says

        March 19, 2015 at 12:11 pm

        Hi Donna – thanks for the kudos and for the link to the song. I really like it. How have I not heard of this woman before?

        My husband’s kin homesteaded in NB and most left during the dust bowl — what harsh conditions, but more so, what tenacity and strength in those who stayed.

        Reply
      • Richard Maxson says

        March 21, 2015 at 12:11 pm

        Trouble in the Fields is a beautiful ballad. Thanks for posting this, so appropriate to compliment Darlene’s poem (kudos to you, Darlene!). At one time I had several albums (yes, the big vinyl ones). I remember Poet At My Window, if I remember right. I also saw her in concert once in Houston.

        Reply
      • Heather Eure says

        March 23, 2015 at 2:35 am

        Very nice! I adore how everyone’s words and images inspire little conversations and song-sharing.

        Reply
    • S. Etole says

      March 19, 2015 at 12:55 pm

      Nice one, Darlene. My mother used to tell how the dust gathered in the pages of closed books in the little country school where she taught.
      Thank you TSP for using my image.

      Reply
  6. lynn__ says

    March 21, 2015 at 8:44 am

    Great prompt here! Hope you don’t mind, S. Etole:
    I shared your photo on my blog, with credit …and a poem!

    http://madhatterpoetry.com/2015/03/19/air-in-motion/

    Reply
    • Heather Eure says

      March 23, 2015 at 2:37 am

      “…when all umbrellas turn inside out!” Enjoyed your poem, Lynn. Thanks for sharing it!

      Reply
      • lynn__ says

        March 23, 2015 at 10:46 pm

        My pleasure 🙂 Thanks for reading, Heather.

        Reply

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  1. Poetry Prompt: Wind, What's Your Name? - says:
    March 23, 2015 at 8:00 am

    […] to everyone who participated in last week’s poetry prompt. Here is a poem from Richard we […]

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