December 21, 2023 by Bridgette

poetry: moths, we are

sitting across me
hands breathing fire
you burn sunflowers
into moonless shadows

remember

touch inky waves
scream amber light
open every sunroof
rotate back to you

For anyone struggling right now, but especially Cin.

December 15, 2023 by Bridgette

poetry: what a sigh becomes

velvet cheek pressing against me
pink lips sucking air
my body knows this

memory becomes language
speaking not words but sensations
primal swaying
songs of ancestors

tenderness blooms here

sweet milky breath
tiny fingers grasping shirt

seedling, daffodil drops, skyward

Mother Earth swells larger
willow trees dancing
petal skinned waters

paper cranes taking flight

you sigh
it becomes a smile
now a laugh

are you chasing winds?
riding swollen ocean waves?
smelling ancient ferns?

moonlight sings your name
sunshine whispers its secrets
lean into softness

stars remember everything
you will tell me someday

you will tell me

all of it

December 13, 2023 by Bridgette

Poetry: Constrict

He had a picture of me
on his work desk. A boa
constrictor wrapped around
my neck. He’d say,
“She wasn’t even scared.”

His framed pride
didn’t match my fear,
so I pretended.

Not a snake charmer,
I learned to drink venom.
Walk through glass. Palms
up, always. Let me prove
how good I am, like sweet
orange trees. Climb. Take
cover beneath my limbs,
I’ll take all the blame. Sorry
for the storm, for freezing
pomegranate hearts. Orphan
without warmth—I know.

Look, watch me spin so
bright. Sing to the moon.
Ride through a rice field, kick
dust onto the snow-white
cranes. See me create starlight
babies with magical breath—
lean in. Smell them.
Part me.
Part you.
Us.

Branches. You see?
Beautiful are the buds
bearing your blue eyes.

Maybe you had to move
away. Once, no twice.
You needed to be further
from this mess; this me.

Further and further.
I see.

Neck, boa, constrict—
my words press like sap
pushing through bark.
Not fearless, but what
will too late feel
like when words sit stuck
inside. No, say it all. Look,
do you see? “She wasn’t even

scared.”

November 30, 2023 by Bridgette

poetry: kissed

once I was sunkissed
now, not kissed at all
not here in this place
where the winter moon
wakes me
singing tomorrows
through mist
through falling leaves
through frost paintings
no, not like that
raven songs, not doves
trinkets
feathers
bits of string
touch my fingertips
my lips
icy secrets whispered
deep into blanket forts
no, not sunkissed
not kissed at all
still warm

November 23, 2023 by Bridgette

poetry: moonset

masked moonlight wakes me
pulling dreams backward, inward
pulling body forward, outward
five steps and I’m outside
bare feet on weathered wood
yes, moon, what do you want
watch me descend, it says
casting legato light across waves
as sapient stars nod, blinking in agreement
what else can I do but listen

opalescent ocean dances below
sings softly of forgetting
or is it forgiving
maybe it wants me to bleed
shedding mawkish memories
dance, move, swing your arms
let go, it calls
can it be so simple

silver moon transforms
briefly mimics sunlight
before sinking
below the waves
below the horizon
below my pained core
with a final golden gasp
it calls out to me
yes, I hear you

folding, folding
I tuck the words inside—
my moonset gift
swaying, swaying
I rock with the waves
under billowy blankets
until morning comes

Note: Both of these photos are of the moon setting at around 1 a.m. If you look closely in the second one you might see stars.

November 14, 2023 by Bridgette

52 Photo Challenge: Week 45-Nighttime

“Fire spirit, fire sprite
Share with us your golden light
Come for us our candle light!”
—Waldorf verse

This week’s assignment for the 52 photo challenge was to photograph something at night. As the days get darker faster, I find myself burning more candles. I wanted my photos to capture the warmth and comfort of flickering candlelight.

“This little light of mine
I’m gonna let it shine”

My lovely daughter agreed to be my model and we ended up with these Victorian-inspired photos. I think they capture a bit of the danger of the darkness too and I’m in love with them. Please let me know if you have a favorite and have a wonderful week.

If you want to read the short story I wrote this time last year:
Week 45: A Night at the Carnival

She’s unharmed as you can see! Thank you Lola for being a fantastic model and a wonderful daughter. You make me proud every single day.

Photos were taken with Olympus OM-D and edited with ON1 Photo RAW
If you want to join the 52 Photo Challenge, you can find all the information at nicolesy.com

52 Photo Challenge
Week 1: Bokeh
Week 2: Silhouette
Week 3: Black and White
Week 4: Motion Blur
Week 5: Texture
Week 6: Framing
Week 7: Leading Lines
Week 8: Negative Space
Week 9: Patterns
Week 10: Symmetry
Week 11: Green
Week 12: Sidelight
Week 13: Sense of Scale
Week 14: One Lens
Week 15: Series
Week 16: Flat Lay
Week 17: Behind the Scenes
Week 18: Water
Week 19: Blurry Foreground
Week 20: Unique Perspective
Week 21: Shadow
Week 22: Food
Week 23: Abstract
Week 24: Reflection
Week 25: Contrast Color
Week 26: Think in Threes
Week 27: Starburst
Week 28: Low Perspective
Week 29: Macro
Week 30: Backlight
Week 31: Big Sky
Week 32: Dominant Color
Week 33: Fill the Frame
Week 34: Spot Metering
Week 35: Handheld Long Exposure
Week 36: S Curve
Week 37: Shoot Through
Week 38: Faces
Week 39: Blossom
Week 40: Environmental Portrait
Week 41: Texture Overlay
Week 42: Details
Week 43: Season
Week 44: Fog & Steam

November 10, 2023 by Bridgette

poetry: playing games

open and shut them
a game with toddlers
to still their hands
to make them giggle
I play it in my head
to still my fears
open and shut them
ambulance out the window
stretcher in the hall
two paramedics in blue
electrodes on his chest
it’s not like last time
give a little clap, clap, clap
take me back to stillness
no ripples spreading out
just flat glassy ease
a breath and a sigh
open and shut them
pajama pants, slip-on shoes
home before sunrise
coffee while he sleeps
hugs when he wakes
put them in your lap, lap, lap

October 11, 2023 by Bridgette

poetry: wonder

we watch the water hold tight
rope swings, we jump high
rise like lilacs, like waves, like space
ship rocks, sways, we tumble
weeds snare, we stare at sun
shine within, soft skin, we whirl
pool glows, grows, lacks sense
less we see, less we know—a flash
back to life, hands catch cold rain
bow tied neatly around bold moon
light dances, our souls wonder
land a kiss upon my lips, our hour
glass turns, we say goodnight

Author’s note: Each line in this poem ends with the start of a compound word. You can either read the poem line by line or you can read those words combined—tightrope, highrise, spaceship, etc. Let me know what you think.