Written for the Sunday Whirl: Prompt words in the picture above
He made a pass at me
sharing his smokes.
Though I knew his reputation was a myriad of mysteries
when his sensual lips came nearer to mine
I could hear my mother’s mean reproach.
We both knew we had to hide
from the old crow’s stare.
When we strolled by the nun
he’d howl at her.
We’d hurry and disappear through the green door.
In our hideout, we’d lie down on the rolls of foam.
With the balmy weather outside mist would come in through the broken window.
I would never speak of this to anyone…
He ended up making it a game to search me with his tongue.
For: The Sunday Whirl (frozen, rope, saint, rasping, hazy, folded, gusts, holy, home, poverty, crazy
The old Monastery lies at the bottom of a ravine. Cloistered monks living within these crumbling stone walls have all renounced worldly life and taken a vow of poverty. During the winter months, gusts of cold air travel through the frozen corridors. This is their Holy Home.
Brother Saint Francis has a room next to Brother Timothy. Whenever Francis sits quietly in his room he keeps hearing strange rasping noises. He questions Timothy about it but Timothy says he has never heard anything.
As soon as Francis returned to his own room, Timothy reaches for the secret opening he carved in the floor under his bed. Moving his simple cot to the back wall, a hazy cloud of dust spreads throughout the room.
Within this small opening Timothy gazes into the eyes of a big fat rabbit. With a rope tied around one of its little legs, a folded hand towel for a pillow, the rabbit lies quietly inside an earth bottom box.
“You crazy little rabbit, you must keep quiet”!
Timothy says to the rabbit.