The Wednesday Word

For 23 June 2021

Last week I received a few more responses, all good. But one made me laugh. And it made me realize I’d put sanctify into a somewhat limiting mind-box. I thought I’d share this submission, particularly for anyone else similarly afflicted. Here is Sanctify by Larry Johnson.

Sanctify was a good little race horse
who loved to run on the dirt.
She was a cute little filly,
and oh! how she could flirt.

Her race day colors
made her happy and gay.
And coming in first
meant oats and good hay.

Now she lives on a farm,
way out of the way.
And for the rest of her days,
That's where she will stay.

And kids bring her sugar
and a carrot or two.
And once in a while,
There's a young stud to woo.

And on that rather racy note, it’s a Wednesday Midsummer’s Eve. So here is a relevant word.

The Wednesday Word

for 23 June 2021


You can respond in the comments below or make a Twitter post to the Wednesday Word. Either way, begin your response with #midsummer.

Your response can be anything. An observation, a story, a thought. In the spirit of word prompts, it’s best if you use the word; but I’m not even a stickler about that. Especially if you can convey the meaning without ever touching the word. In fact, in that case, I’d be rather impressed.

If responding in Twitter, you are limited to the forms of Twitter. I would prefer that there be no threads because that becomes difficult to parse in the notifications in-box. So if you have something long, post it in the comments below. That said, please don’t go too long. Let’s keep it under 2000 words, shall we. I’m not going to count, but I’m also not promising to read a dissertation. Unless it’s really good!

If I receive something noteworthy, I’ll post it next week. If not, well, that’s fine too. I know you all are busy. But if you’ve read this far, then I’ve made you think about… midsummer.

the hour grows late

the hour grows late
the blazing midsummer sun
     has set upon our revelries
and spirits of the wild come forth
	some creep-cautious and careworn
	some roar-righteous and raging
		to claim warranted weregild 
our hour waxes long
	spring spent, summer waning
and we curl around broken husks
retraction, restitution, reconciliation
	we owe
in despite of will, ineludible debts come due
	burning the airs, scalding the seas
		this score will be settled
and they whisper intransigent incantations
	arresting this cancerous growth
		beginning implacable blood reckoning
but we dance oblivious
     in this enfolding darkness
	e’en as we follow the spiral back to center
the hour grows late
	our hour withers
midsummer is past
and the harvest approaches inexorably

©Elizabeth Anker 2021

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.