Have our heroes left? /
Skipped a generation? /
Children move mountains.

Have our heroes left? /
Skipped a generation? /
Children move mountains.

Collapse, decay, end: /
dissolving into its death. /
Fungus finds a home.

Whipped cream mountain kiss, /
Berries touching a waffle, /
Subtly love comes.

The sign almost glowed,/
the word and the memories /
welded moments.


“End Road Work,” sign says. /
Declaration or demand? /
Hanging to stir doubt?

“If only are early and unexpected guests were as pleasant as our early and unexpected jonquils,” he said to his wife when they finally had a moment alone.
Filed under 2018, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday

He came to town to avenge his brother’s death the only way he knew how: one slow, painful scoot at a time.
Filed under 2018, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday

In a cold, early morning in winter, the pumpkin sparkles with frost.
Filed under 2018, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday

Some days you catch the Friday and some days, the Friday catches you.
Filed under 2017, photo by David E. Booker, Photo Finish Friday