The Sisters Three

Today Pegman took us to Coniston Water, Lake District, England. I took a stroll around and found this picture. Thanks, Karen and Josh, for providing another great idea for a 150-word challenge.

As children, my sisters and I danced among these stones, singing the praises of gods we did not know while wondering why anyone should be guided by spirits they could not see.

Rayana, the eldest. A beauty with a voice filled with the music of one-hundred crystalline bells.
And a mind that held world-knowledge that surpassed each of our elders.
Oh, her many qualities swayed armies.

Clarene, the brave. Villagers compared her strength to that of our most powerful axman. Her gentleness to the heart of a dove.
When war broke out, she was our fiercest defender and most compassionate healer.

What were my qualities? Selfishness. Anger. Revenge. All wrapped up in ocean-blue eyes and golden hair. As were we all.

So, I warn you, the next time you sit, mead in hand, do not ask our elders how the village survived for lies will drip from their tongues.

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Ghosts

Today Pegman took us to Taşlıçay, Ağrı, Turkey. I scrolled around pictures for a while before finding this wonderful picture of blowing snow.

The old people say there are no ghosts left
that they disappeared after the great famine
took more than half the population of the village.
They are wrong.

On the edge of fields
I see ghosts
dancing in clothes so bright
they put the sun to shame.

Or, I hear them in the barn
telling jokes and laughing
until I think their sides might split.
If only they still had sides.
If only.

Sometimes these fragile ghosts
sit at my kitchen table.
I drink tea while listening to their stories.
Often I reach out to touch them.
Futile, I know.
I need no reminder.

They leave notes
We love you
Kindness is the root of happiness
Go to bed early
Feed the dog

I no longer have a dog.
But my children don’t know that.
Their memories are
from the times before
the soldiers came,
starving and mean.