R.L. Swihart's Blog, page 96

August 20, 2020

Roadside Trail of Butter & Eggs

 Last shot I took in Michigan. Butter & Eggs. Wild Snapdragons.


#rlswihart #poetry #michigan



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Published on August 20, 2020 12:23

August 19, 2020

Mackinac Island & Lady Liberty

#rlswihart #woodhenge #mackinac #ladyliberty #poetry #readmorepoetry



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Published on August 19, 2020 19:15

Grand Hotel: Gardens

 #rlswihart #woodhenge #poetry #readmorepoetry #michigan #mackinacisland





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Published on August 19, 2020 12:48

The Grand Hotel (Somewhere in Time)

 #rlswihart13 #woodhenge #grandhotel #mackinacisland #somewhereintime #poetry #readmorepoetry



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Published on August 19, 2020 04:45

August 15, 2020

Michigan: License Plate "Art"

 #rlswihart #licenseplateart



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Published on August 15, 2020 08:24

Toledo Spain @ Corpus Christi

Toledo Spain @ Corpus Christi.


#rlswihart #rlswihart13 #amazon #woodhenge #toledospain #poetry #readmorepoetry 



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Published on August 15, 2020 05:33

August 14, 2020

Woodhenge Blurb by Barry Spurr

R L Swihart's Woodhenge. The blurb by Barry Spurr (Literary Editor at Quadrant Magazine).


#rlswihart #woodhenge #blurb #poetry #readmorepoetry



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Published on August 14, 2020 14:40

Ohio Spiderwort or Bluejacket

Haven't seen it along the roads till this week. As kids we always called it a "snot flower" because of the sticky liquid in its stem.



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Published on August 14, 2020 08:19

Seek & Find #13: Mother and Waiting Children

The mother waited long enough for me to get a pic, or was she waiting for something else? Then a big black pickup came around the corner and stopped because of the deer. The three hidden babies squirted out one at a time, coming out of the brush on the other side. Luckily the truck kept waiting. Unfortunately it all happened too quickly to get any more pics.



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Published on August 14, 2020 05:44

From "Ward No. 6"

 "No matter . . ." thought Andrey Yefimitch, wrapping himself in his dressing-gown in a shamefaced way and feeling that he looked like a convict in his new costume. "It's no matter. . . . It does not matter whether it's a dress-coat or a uniform or this dressing-gown. 

"But how about his watch? And the notebook that was in the side-pocket? And his cigarettes? Where had Nikita taken his clothes? Now perhaps to the day of his death he would not put on trousers, a waistcoat, and high boots. It was all somehow strange and even incomprehensible at first. Andrey Yefimitch was even now convinced that there was no difference between his landlady's house and Ward No. 6, that everything in this world was nonsense and vanity of vanities. And yet his hands were trembling, his feet were cold, and he was filled with dread at the thought that soon Ivan Dmitritch would get up and see that he was in a dressing-gown. He got up and walked across the room and sat down again.

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Published on August 14, 2020 05:33