Pile of Sticks

A knee high pile of sticks from the plum tree rests against the shed
Rain falls from the overhang, lands soflty and runs down the stack
Bright dark-pink petals spring from cuts and  little twigs throughout 

Fat Quail

Eight feathered creatures scury across the near-desert floor
Colors brighter than expected and overweight for this time of year
Picking at seeds and insects, moving fast at every sound
The big one stands high on rock or stump, watching for coyotes or little boys

Night owl

A ghostly presence flies up from the drive
Feather's fluffed and reflective in the headlamp
Narrowly missing the tempered glass
It glides above the factory lot
Circling against a dark sky

Desktop

School bus colored pencil with broken lead and a nub of eraser
Sits upon an octagonal face alongside a half dry finepoint pen
Smoke-gray tape dispenser with most of a roll lies on its side
Snapshots of my three, their spouses and grandchildren
Pieces of notes left on a scrap of paper at all angles and fonts
Office noises, a phone rings over the wall, someone giggling

New Source of Stones

A new round of stones will soon begin and this blog will be the place to find my little rocks and will also connect with all the others "in the river". I plan to adhere closer to the definition of stones as laid out by the project than I did before. The discipline will be good.....