kara towe

A Mother's Warning (short story)
One summer’s day my children (5 & 7) went fishing with me by a fast moving river.
On the banks grew tall grass, and on the rivers edge were dainty blue flowers
As we stood fishing my daughter came up to me holding a small bunch of flowers.
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There is a tattered wooden hedged box.
Small hands hold it open in the sunlight.
Inside a chimed melody.
A little ballerina twirls in front of a diamond shaped mirror.
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The Merry-Go-Round starts to turn as Bachs’ Toccata Adagio and figure in C begins to play.
It slowly picks up speed as the tempo rises.
Up and down in a circular motion, the brightly ornamented horses begin their pace.
Steadily they arrive to a rushing stampede.
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Little fairy slipper where is your owner?
Did the fairy wearing you only loose this one slipper?
Is he/she close by?
Is he/she spying on me with little eyes?
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There was an old woman who owned a flower shop in a small village.
The woman had a unique heritage.
She came from a long line of fortune telling gypsies that predicted many great loves and tragedies.
Many villagers came to her seeking answers for their personal affairs.
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Not to Ponder

The rabbit jumps into its’ hole.
It doesn’t think why.
The storm rolls through the sky.
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Beckons in a stormy sea.
Lights in a vast darkness.
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Flash!
A clap of penetrating sound!
Spider rods of blinding light assemble.
Gone in a instant, blackness devours.
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Lapping and swirling water splashes.
Shifting particles of sand sparkle.
Trillions of percolating bubbles fizz.
Crashing waves of white foam roar forever rolling into shore.
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Snow flakes floating all around, swirling, blowing, whisking across the ground, traipsing on roofs, cradled in trees, dancing on a blistery breeze, spooling around all in sight, makes for a cold winters’ night.
A blanket of shimmering white raps smoothly, tucking into every edge, every groove, spreads along logs, and laces on the tall dry grass, stretching out and freezing the surface of a lake mass.
Trimming the mountainous rocky cliff faces, dusting even the smallest of places, it drifts into mounds that slows even the swiftest pace, the snow has arrived with a silent grace.
Falling from heaven like crystallized tears of the knowing that spring time has long since gone by, there are so many snow flakes I behold with my eyes.
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In the meadow a lazy stream flows through cattail reeds of green.
Swallows dart through the sky weaving through the air currents as they fly.
A Meadow Lark, perched on a fence pole, sings melodies from its heart and soul.
Starlings flock in unison as they fly forming a fluttering mass in the sky.
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You mourn what has come and gone.
You mourn present time.
You mourn your youth.
You mourn your life.
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In the meadow a lazy stream flows through cattail reeds of green.
Swallows dart through the sky weaving through the air currents as they fly.
A Meadow Lark, perched on a fence pole, sings melodies from its heart and soul.
Starlings flock in unison as they fly forming a fluttering mass in the sky.
...

Magpie with your black and white pleated wings and your long iridescent tail of green you are a curious thing.
Swooping down onto my porch you squawk and shriek looking for a treat.
Cleverly you look through the front door screen carefully observing the scene.
You are after the food left behind from the dog as you hop onto a fireplace log.
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The roots are web like and grow best in compost topped with mulch.
They need plenty of water too.
Woody stems sometimes have thrones and also bare three pieced ridged dark green leaves.
Tips of stems can have large blossoms that have spiraling smooth soft petals.
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Rings silently extend across a mirrored cove.
Trees stand, needled jade, draped with deep olive colored mosses.
Birds tweet, chirp and whistle out various rhythmic tunes.
Waves of water gently lap on the shore of pastel colored stones.
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There is a solitary moment beneath each stone.
Water streams above collective generational tears.
Gentle melodic voices murmur.
Surrounded by a softly swaying cathedral of trees.
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Flash!
A clap of penetrating sound!
Spider rods of blinding light assemble.
Gone in a instant, blackness devours.
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You funny lil bunny, so full of tricks, sometimes I wonder what makes your mind tick.
Always hopping around, digging at things on the ground.
Jumping into our laps, as you make your rounds on the back edge of the couches, then you jump down to our feet to make your bunny bounces.
You stand up right on your two back feet, sniffing the air for a treat.
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Diving on a one lane highway along the country side, headed for home, we see a glorious vision as we rise up out of a valley.
On the sides of us are low rolling hills of amber, and goldenrod yellows, dappled with burnt umber as they stretch outward toward majestic mountains of slate grey, and forest green.
Ahead of us is a patchy powder blue ski, beneath it a huge steel blue lake, capped with peaks of Ivory white.
Distant islands stand erect of emerald green.
...