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.
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.
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?
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.
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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.
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Sometimes we feature your poems in Every Day Poems, with your permission of course. Thanks for writing with us!
Browse Air and Wind
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- Animate: Lions & Lambs Poetry Prompt - March 12, 2018
- Poetry Prompt: Behind the Velvet Rope - February 26, 2018
Monica Sharman says
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.
Monica Sharman says
… and here’s a #haiku #micropoetry version I tweeted 🙂
linen fibers
organic threads woven
wind breezes through
Bethany R. says
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.
Simply Darlene says
iLike.
Elizabeth Marshall says
Beautifully simple.
Simply beautiful.
love this
Richard Maxson says
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.
Heather Eure says
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.
Richard Maxson says
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.
Donna Z Falcone says
Best thing about clothes
dried in summertime’s breath
is they way that you smell
wearing them.
Simply Darlene says
i agree!
Simply Darlene says
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.
Simply Darlene says
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
Donna Z Falcone says
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
SimplyDarlene says
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.
Richard Maxson says
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.
Heather Eure says
Very nice! I adore how everyone’s words and images inspire little conversations and song-sharing.
S. Etole says
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.
lynn__ says
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/
Heather Eure says
“…when all umbrellas turn inside out!” Enjoyed your poem, Lynn. Thanks for sharing it!
lynn__ says
My pleasure 🙂 Thanks for reading, Heather.