Month: Jul 2018

• dVerse Rooms

  Grandpa was autumn. That’s how I saw him. In his brown trousers and rusty-red shirt and a folded paper hat on his head that looked like an origami boat, and he’d stand there in his basement workshop sawing up some piece of driftwood, sawdust flying about like a blizzard. A lightbulb hung from a cord…

  Misky

  Jul 25, 2018

  dVerse, Poetic Forms, Poetry

  haibun

• Twiglet #86

  games we played games with little words, round and small as pebbles. Poop, she said and fell into laughter. never mind the extra O. we kept it spare as change.     For Twiglets #86

  Misky

  Jul 25, 2018

  Poetry, Twiglets

• dVerse Quadrille #60

  The Art of Scratching I’m an itcher, perfected as a child. Mum made me a coat from Dad’s old peacoat – worn during the war, only war worth fighting (he said), claimed every shot since was political mischief. Hated that coat. Scratched my neck raw. Like rope burn.     dVerse Quadrille #60

  Misky

  Jul 18, 2018

  dVerse, Poetic Forms