Flashie Friday

door in the tree     lone_tree_hdr

Images for use as prompts for Flashie Friday (though it can be Poetry Friday, too). If you like, choose one and write flash fiction (please hold to 100 words) or a poem inspired by the images. Comment and I’ll post (with your permission) your submission as a separate entity so it’s not lost in the comment nether world. Please include a link to your own blog, if you so desire.

[Image credits: Door in Tree:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/68244807@N00/2215409087 JB Banks. (used under CC license). Lone Tree: hotblack at morguefile.com (used under license).]

About suzanawylie

Suzana Wylie is the not-very-pseudo pseudonym of Susan Wylie Wilson, because let's face it, there are lots of Susan Wilsons around, and as an author, I want readers to find ME and not the bazillions of others. I've been writing all my life - since I learned to hold a pencil anyway - and can't NOT write. Other people have to breathe to live; I have to write.
This entry was posted in Poetry, Short Fiction. Bookmark the permalink.

18 Responses to Flashie Friday

  1. erinsromance says:


    Grip me in the knot of heartwood
    Crawl with me through stone
    to the heart of granite
    and beyond,
    to mountains violet smoke.
    Take me home.

    gaelic spirit: https://erinsromance.wordpress.com

  2. suzanawylie says:

    My own offering.

    If all within the forest stands
    A tree that prays alone
    Who, hearing it in distant lands,
    Can say which seeds that sown
    By flowering branch or bursting cones
    Are borne by praying tree
    And which the towering forest owns
    That never bent the knee?
    The fir that lone and solemn prays
    Its god will surely hear
    For no mumbled muttering lays,
    Words uttered by no seer,
    Impede the flow of heaven-bound prayer
    Sent up by one alone
    Who, still and genuflecting there,
    Does not its fate bemoan.

  3. Still, stark
    wrapped in light.
    The beauty of silence
    weakens me.
    I am Adam
    before the apple.

  4. laurieboris says:

    He was the only one left of his kind, and the sadness of that knowledge bent his bones. Each season, when the sun heated his branches and unfurled his leaves, he dared to hope that a sprout would crack the earth, another like him. Some had tried. One brave sapling pushed its fresh shoots to the light. But, starved for nutrients, it only shriveled back into the ground, wasted. Again, this happened, and again. Until finally he realized: Thick and ravenous, his own roots were choking the new ones, and while he existed he would always be alone. http://laurieboris.com

  5. erinsromance says:

    Wow, Laurie, bit in the butt by one’s own existence! This is a good tour de force, the kind of irony I deeply appreciate. 🙂

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