halfway (Thursday doors and more)

mark not words, but boundaries–
you call them kindred
because they verge on your dreams

waves of receding
spirits returning like stars,
still and glittering

naked and exposed inside the lens of your life

My first sevenling poem, for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday challenge with synonyms for family and peace.

I took the above photo on Broadway, somewhere in the 80s I think. If you look closely you can see my headless figure.

This door belongs to a Con Ed substation at 110th and Amsterdam. The building itself is unmemorable, but I like the design of the door.

I spotted these flowers a few weeks ago when walking in Riverside Park. I had never seen what I thought to be an oak tree flowering before.

I could not figure out its identity until this weekend I saw it had seed pods. They were instantly identifiable online–jimson weed.

A toxic member of the nightshade family, although it does have medicinal and hallucinogenic uses. Evidently animals know to steer clear, but humans fall prey to its effects on a regular basis, not always accidentally.

And I wanted to share the view of the tower of light taken from my window Saturday night.

You can join in Thursday doors here.