Month: Sep 2025
-
8 Sept: Starvow – The Liturgy
19 of 27 – Liturgy for Starvow: The Silent Exchange I. The GreetingNot a vow spoken,but a pulse exchanged —a light in an east-facing window,answeredby a presence in an old oak tree. It is a dawn ritual with no name,a breath they lend to silence,a space made sacredonly because they both tend it. II. The…
-
5 Sept: dVerse Cinquain
Silent Sky (a cinquain poem) So still,the heavens wait —a canvas drawn with hush,its blue skin pulled across the day.Don’t breathe. A cinquain, syllable count 2-4-6-8-2, written for dVerse Poets . Some artwork is created using Midjourney AI, and is identified as such in the ALT text or captioned. Images are copyright and not to used without…
-
6 Sept: MicroDosing 60µg
The key turns.The lock clicks. The air inside smells of much-loved books and lemon soap she used this morning. Her shoulders drop, a weight she hadn’t realised she was carrying — her handbag slides to the floor. “I’m home,” she whispers to the quiet, and the quiet, for the first time all day, whispers back.…
-
5 Sept: Ten Things of Thankful (soundtracked)
In no particular order: 1. The clouds could no longer hold the rain. It fell in curtains. Wind’s fingerprint on everything. Sunflowers abandoned to the shadows; petals melted in the rain. I’m thankful for rain in the midst of a drought. The rain barrels are full to overflowing again! 2. Planning an 8-day trip to…
-
4 Sept: August Porch (rewritten)
August Porch (near-rhyme version) August —the air hangs thick as syrup,a dry spell stitched with thunder,heat spilling from the skylike velvet, pulled under. On her shoulder,the baby shifts and sighs,a song on her lipslike a hymn half-wise … …soft as sugar,barely sung,the taste of somethingon the tongue. That slow smile —Memphis-summer kind —rises like steamfrom…
-
4 Sept: Journal of Thoughts
Play it low — let the heat sing first, and let the porch remember. August Porch August —the air sits thick as syrup,a dry spell stitched with thunder,heat tumbling from the sky,pressing down like velvet. On her shoulder, the babystirs and fusses,a song spilling from her lipslike a half-remembered hymn,gentle as rocking chair creak. That…
-
3 Sept: A Six Sentence Story
Aura – Episode Two (Six Sentence Story) That Jumper Päiviö wears the same wool jumper three days a week — hand-knitted from Icelandic sheep wool, lightweight but tough, its complex snowflake pattern running across chest and shoulders, snagging people’s gaze there for a moment before they take an unconscious half-step back …not because he never…
-
2 Sept: dVerse Haibun
The Holding Breath To the 204 men and boys of the 1862 Hartley Colliery disaster — their breath drifts still, coal-dust caught in morning’s blacklung frost. They crawled into the narrow seams where lanterns barely held back the dark, where the air strangled itself thin. We remember the steel-to-stone rhythm of their pickaxes, the hunger-click…
-
2 Sept: A Six Sentence Story
18 of 27 – Mirebright: A Fragment Unaccounted-For The Weight of Small Things The chipped bowl by her door held coins — not for luck or for God, but for the hollow-cheeked boy who came at dawn, socks sagging, schoolbag a sack of lint and secondhand books, shoelaces knotted like protection spells. Each morning he…
-
2 Sept: Mirebright – The Liturgy
18 of 27 Mirebright – The Poem – The Unaccounted-For I. The GlintNot a star —but a false dawn where hope dies,a light that clings to an unrepentant cheeklike a child’s kiss on a rusted blade.You hope anyway.You love despite. Mirebright is whispered even when no one’s listening. II. The Hollow ChestCompassion aches here —not…
It's Still Life 