The winter had been endlessly grey, sharing its hues with the blurred ink of my morning newspaper. Last year’s grass bowed, buff-colored, still resilient to its final decay, still waiting to surrender to the weeds underneath.
Recently it had been unseasonably cold until finally an April sun managed to kiss my brow and as a seed I was shot out.
The back end of a blue jay when heedless she flew over the meadow called me alive. Spring had erupted and for a moment I ceased to think about the two Iskender missiles being shot into a crowded city
“A tragic mistake”, you may say if you prefer to say if you believe that butcher is in depth of his heart a vegetarian.
But, just like me and last year’s grass, me and the butchers are destined to decay, giving way to new growth.
Lynd Ward
Today Sanaa hosts the prosery at dVerse with a line:
“As a seed, I was shot out the back end of a blue jay when, heedless, she flew over the meadow.” From the poem, “Wild Pansy.” by Lisa Bellamy.
I found it very challenging to incorporate in new prose, but I did my best.
April 14, 2025
Björn Rudbergs writings 
This is absolutely stellar writing, Bjorn! I especially resonate with;
“Spring had erupted and for a moment I ceased to think about the two Iskender missiles being shot into a crowded city,” … there is so much going on in the world that even the slightest distraction for a moment’s respite is welcome.
Thank you so much for writing to the prompt 💙💙
Horrible things happens in the best of weathers
Bjorn deft breaking up of the line, which made it easier to work with. The horror that creeps into your story screams, then fades away which gave your story punch. I pray the butchers decay sooner rather than later.
I think they will continue to butcher for quite some time.
You pulled in the Iskender missiles at just the right moment…very well done, especially crowded sky ..says it all…and that very strong last me.
Those missiles continue to crowd the sky….
fantasyic response to the prompt
much♡love
Thank you
Poignant. Well written as per usual.
Thank a lot
I didn’t expect those missiles! Intense writing!
You always need an element of surprise
Nicely done, Bjorn! You are so right… everything dies in the end! Nature’s tragedy!!
Maybe nature just takes care of what’s needed.
:>)
I admire your deft punctuation of the prompt line, Björn, and love the contrast between winter’s endless grey, the blurred ink of the morning newspaper, and the suggestion of colour in the blue jay and eruption of spring.
There must be hope somewhere despite the darkness.
What a profoundly vivid portrayal! Well done, Bjorn.
This is a beautiful piece, Bjorn. Nicely done.
spring is a good distraction / distractor. If only those with missiles would lift their heads to notice it is Spring. Lovely write. Thank you.
Wow, Bjorn! That was so depressing but so well written. I felt the heaviness throughout the whole piece. Great prosery!
Yvette M Calleiro 🙂
http://yvettemcalleiro.blogspot.com
Björn, that closing line hit me hard—resigned and raw in a way that lingers.
~David
Very clever, the way you wove the given line into the story.