Friday, October 30, 2020

Flash Friday 55 Halloween Edition 2020



 Welcome all, to the All Hallows' edition of the Friday 55. In a year where almost every day has felt like Halloween, it may be hard to get into the spirit of this ancient celebration of the thinning of the veil between the quick and the dead. It may be too tragic to think of all those who were here and now are gone in this year of plague rampant and its utter chaos, with a dubious future ahead.
Nonetheless, this exercise continues, and let the 55 chips fall where they may, as we remember happier if not scarier times, and the originator of this meme, Galen Hayes, by attempting to have a writer's kickass weekend to a radioactive Jack-O-Lantern's glow.
The rules remain the same. Write a poem, piece of prose poetry or flash fiction in exactly 55 words, no more, no less, and post your link in the comments below. I will be by to read whatever has haunted you this week.

The meme will be live from Thursday at the Witching Hour til Sunday at 4 pm.
~ * ~
Here is my 55. We have had a historic and crippling ice storm here, and the ghosts of my trees are with me in this piece.


 I woke in the dryads' dying hours
to the champagne-crack of their maple towers
falling; ice-winds honed a banshee tune,
a butcher's knife to carve the pumpkin moon. 

1000 suns of supple leaf expire
when winter kicks down summer's flimsy door;
a protean shift from sheeted ice to fire
to dryads' ash on Halloween's dancing-floor.

October 2020







 Images: The Woodland Dryad, © Jesse T. Banfield, 1913 via wikimedia commons Fair Use
Redbud ruins, October 2020 ice storm, © joyannjones


  1. Once again you've made something beautiful from catastrophe. There is nothing scarier to me than US politics right now, and I don't have the heart to write about that. :(
    So I decided to concentrate on animals instead:

    I hope you have a kickass weekend, despite everything.

  2. That poem is a gorgeous depiction of destruction. The line where winter "kicks down summer's flimsy door" was a visceral reminder of heat's passing. Hope that there is recovery for at least some of your trees.

  3. WOW @ that picture! And the poem this event gave rise to is damned fine. The kicking down of the flimsy door is so sudden and striking, knocking heck out of 1000 day of sun. Bravo, dear, both for your post and for keeping Galen's tradition alive.

    Mine is here:

  4. I can almost hear the banshee wail of the wind and the crack of the trees. LOVE "a butcher's knife to carve the pumpkin moon." Wonderful, Hedge.


    Here you Ms. Joy.

  6. Out here when it ices, we have pine pillars .... maple towers sound terrifying. I enjoyed your timely poetry, muchly.

  7. This is magnificent on so many levels Joy! Oh the shifts of power, be it nature or man, is always a something to witness indeed. Thank you for keeping our muse alive Joy!
    Here is mine:

  8. So many witching and bewitching words. The first in a long time that inspiration has stirred.

  9. Beautiful poetry from something so heartbreaking. Trees bring such joy and beauty to our lives. I grieve with you.

    My poem is a bit of silly, but when the muse appears I write what she inspires.

  10. I love this. And here's to kicking down doors. AP just called it for Biden this morning. Maybe, just maybe, democracy will last a while longer

    1. Yes, though I imagine we will still endure months of bitch and pissing and moaning from the moron formerly known as president. Worth it, though. Thanks for reading, M.


"We make out of the quarrel with others, rhetoric, out of the quarrel with ourselves, poetry." ~William Butler Yeats

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