It’s time for Colleen’s photo prompt poetry challenge. I actually got to choose the photo for this challenge. I’m excited to see what everyone has written.

Even the whales are angry at us. Mankind has really screwed up. We really have. And I wish I wasn’t posting this because it’s would be more fun to write about almost anything else.

The pandemic caused me to do some things I wouldn’t normally do…and whether it was out of necessity or desire is still unclear. For example;

I’m once again joining the word witch, Colleen Chesebro, weekly poetry challenge, #photoprompt. I came up with three different Haikus for this photo as I played with words. Here is my favorite that turned into a #Senryu.

I write this in memory of my father and don’t worry, I’ve tagged it in humor. It’s my recollection of one of the last times I saw him before his unexpected death. Anyone who has a perfectionist for a father will get a chuckle out of this anecdote…

Recently, as I waited at a red light I looked at all the license plates on the cars surrounding me. Not necessarily to see if they were from somewhere far away but to inspect the screws securing the plates. Strange, I know.

I blame my late father. I can still see him on that sunny July afternoon: bent down lower than a man his age should be. The object of his inspection? The oversized screws holding my license plate. Much to his consternation not only were these screws obviously too big for the job, but they were unsightly. This is just the thing that could keep my father awake at night.

A little season of love for you. I wrote this one last summer. At that time I wasn’t sharing my poetry but today seems like a perfect day to share this one…

July and I have a complicated relationship. I’m not sure when that happened exactly. I almost want to say that my adult self is paying penance for carefree Julys of my childhood. But that wouldn’t be accurate either. Not entirely.

Untamed was my first Glennon Doyle read. I’ve heard her name buzzed in Good Reads and various places such as, ahem, Oprah. Now this book is a Reese Witherspoon choice. So…I was anxious to read this one and the description grabbed my attention.

I’m joining in Sue Vincent’s #writephoto challenge today. It’s all about dreams…

Purple and Green

Always in bloom

Her dreams took her

To faraway places

She hadn’t been before

A path that beckoned

Colors to entice her through

Darkest of days

Purple and green

And greys in between

Her dream as vivid as the

Lilac in late spring

-LT 7/2/20

Want to join in? Write up your own little poem and link back to Sue’s post.

First, let me just say this isn’t a post about how to know if you are an empath. I just want to express the problems I’ve experienced as an empath myself and offer tips for those of you who are feeling especially tapped out right now.

Empaths are vulnerable to abusive people who take advantage of their good nature and well of compassion. Empaths are far from perfect and are often told they are too sensitive.