you asked what triggers the writing ─
lightning crackling across a roiling sky
a black, lumbering cloud bank spitting out seagulls
a meteor unwinding its tail before plunging into a lake
wet forest floors etched by countless pine needles
orb spider webs clinging, bolted bridge cables
high pitched whistles and chirps in singular silence
moss on fields of mountain boulders dripping beneath
a white fox leaping above snow covered burrow
fire engine red lurking down our street, stopping
food stained Styrofoam, pressed into a corner of refuse
wet blanket near a boarded up store front
rumbling jet howling its decent into a siren busy city
blood in a bag, teeth barred, too many scattered feathers
red robin armies raiding a plump red holly
cold rain, rain, rain, old siliconed gutters, ice shattered ***
a flickering porch light spelling out random Morse code
a twig breaks ...
-cec