Cold, Cold Heart

“What should we do with the body?” Luna asks her twin. “We can’t just leave it here to rot.”

“Is that all you’re worried about—Mother rotting?” Fauna shot back. “You can be so cold-blooded at times.”

Luna’s blue, elliptical eyes move from the withered body on the gray boards to meet Fauna’s. “We are cold-blooded, Sister.”

“Not completely.” Fauna sniffs. “Just half.”

“Well, I didn’t see you turning away from feeding on her.”

“I was so hungry. And after I saw you taking her blood, I couldn’t stop myself. But we shouldn’t have….”

“We had to if we are to live,” Luna says. “Father hasn’t brought us anything to eat in weeks, and we’ve eaten all the rats and everything else around the house. Who knows, he may be dead.”

Fauna grabs her sister’s arm. “Don’t even think it! Surely, he will come any day now. It’s barely summer; it’s not time for him to go away for a while. How will we survive if—”

“We will do whatever we have to.” Luna pries the clawed, pale-green fingers from her arm. “Just like Father taught us.”

“I hate this!” Fauna wails.

“Hate it all you want, but do it on your own time. Right now, help me get Mother in the root cellar. Her meat will sustain us for a few weeks if we’re careful, and maybe Father will come before she’s gone.”


A month passes and Father doesn’t come, and Luna knows she and Fauna will have to leave their home to find food. She informs her sister they will leave in the morning, go out into the woods surrounding the old house, and make their own way in the world. On his last visit, Father said they would be ready soon, and soon had come, whether either she or her sister likes it.

Continue reading “Cold, Cold Heart”


lush green blades tremble

hearing the guillotine’s roar

knowing heads will roll

©2022 July Day


Image by Brenda Johnson from Pixabay

Blue Moon

fog falls
on early morn’
spreads periwinkle shawl
on the new day Blue Moon has born—

©2022 July Day


This unrhymed cinquain written for Eugie’s Weekly Prompt:

Cliffs in Watercolor

This is a painting I did back in the fall. First, as I almost always do, I made a rough sketch on watercolor paper using a photograph for reference. The next day, I painted most of the picture, then finished it off on day three.

Day one: rough sketch of cliffs
Day two: the bulk of the painting
Day three: adding details

A landscape, by far, is my favorite subject to paint. Anything in the natural world, from fog-topped cliffs like these, to a small wildflower, has the power to catch my eye. When out and about, I always have my iPhone in my pocket to take a pic of whatever I find interesting. One never knows what might inspire a painting.

©️2022 July Day

Images my own.


sun-gilded water
stretches from darkening beach
sand between red toes
taste of salt upon dry lips
night draws drapes on paradise

2022 July Day


This poem written for Eugi’s Weekly Prompt:Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – Island – May 31, 2022 – Eugi’s Causerie (


unfurled, dreaming mind
climbs to the stars and beyond
into the unknown

©2022 July Day
on dreams humans ride
a winter rollercoaster
into summer's arms

©2022 July Day


Image by Andrew Leinster from Pixabay

Master Pain

My constant companion is Master Pain.
He slipped through a door I forgot to lock,
Eased into a chair in front of the fire,
Kindly poured us both a glass of champagne.

His hands are not gentle, my handsome swain;
They are knotty and rough, bruise my pale skin.
And when feeling callous, invade my thoughts,
Poking fiery digits into my brain.

I curse him, my language foul and profane.
He laughs in my face, taking no offence—
He has heard it before and will again.
My ranting and raving is all in vain.

Together we ride a cold, hellish train—
No stops, on until the end of the line.
Hands clasped like lovers, me and Master Pain.

©2022 July Day


Image by MellaViews from Pixabay


a twice-broken heart
forms a roadmap of deep scars
etched with suspicion

©2022 July Day


Image by Engin Akyurt from Pixabay


Bold, steady, strong
golden like the sunlight
imparter of knowledge of plants

©2022 July Day

American cinquain

(In Roman mythology, Flora is the goddess of flowering plants, and also, the season of spring. I wrote this poem for my sister who inherited our mother’s love of “digging in the dirt.” Below is a watercolor of my sister that I painted quite a while back; the featured image is from Rawpixel.)

May Morning

Sipping creamed coffee,
Clay pot of flowers on porch
Brighten May morning.

Image my own watercolor painting.

©️2022 July Day

%d bloggers like this: