Month: Jan 2026
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2101: Six Sentence Story
Untitled In the church across the road, up a hill too steep for cars when it snows, they gather every evening — always the same few — coats damp, smelling of wool and fish. They sit on worn pews, reciting worn prayers, asking for health, or pardon, or nothing they can name, until twilight and…
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210125: Journal of Thoughts
This is a reflection inspired by Friedrich Zettl’s post “Spring Greetings from Yunnan” Where Mantra Holds the Mountain(inspired by Spring Greetings from Yunnan) Someone was here.They did not sign their name. They lifted a stone,warm from the palm,and set it downwhere prayer had already learnedthe shape of weather. These mountains never answer,but always listen. Yellow syllables…
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200125: Six Sentence Story
Dancing with Lions — Part 2 Brigid arrived home from the Six Sentence Café and Bistro in a rainstorm designed by and for fish; the gin was still amusing her, but even so it was an impressively Dickensian squall. She went straight to the kitchen, reached for a frosted mug, dropped in two scoops of…
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190126: Journal of Thoughts
Today Is the Day Morning unfastened itself in rain,a soft grey unlatching of the world.I pulled the curtains, and there it was,a small plane stitching the sky,dragging its sentence behind it:Today is the day. No thunder followed.No doors flew open.The kettle boiled.The hours put on their usual coatsand walked past without stopping. Still, that banner…
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1901: A Gogyohka Poem
A Gogyohka Poem Untitled last night’s snowstill holds the breathof those who never came home.my hand sinks in.its silence begins to burn. I will be herewaiting when the crocus return,and the snow drips like punctuationfrom my wrist. the crocus will risefrom a grave of ice,but I no longer flinchat the sting.I write spring in scars.…
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An Elegy in Six Voices
Note: Each poem is a votive offering, not only to the loved one being honoured, but to the poetic spirits of the cultures from which they come. Each culture speaks to death not as an end, but as a change.
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Cat’s Nocturnal Symphony (in 2 Acts of Chaos) ACT I: PHILOSOPHY AT 2 A.M.The cat stares into the dark garden,one paw pressed to the windowpane:“If a leaf falls in the night,and no one is around to blame me for it…did it truly fall?” ACT II: The Reply at 2:10 A.M.(The Old Woman shouts: “YES.”)…
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1701: Ten Things of Thankful
1. Thankful for the warmth and comfort from a big pot of homemade soup. It’s good for all that ails. 2. The first hint of spring as crocus leaves appear through the crisp edge of frost. 3. Sunshine and blue sky on Tuesday. The fences steamed as the thawed. 4. This week’s Six Sentence Stories. I had a…
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Csárdás Part 2
Csárdás (as the ancestors told it) First,a single note. Thin as winter smoke slips from the fiddle and winds through the roomlike an old woman’s blessing. It is the colour of duskon the Great Plain,the colour of storieswhispered beside the stovewhen wolves were still believed in. The bow drags slowly:sír a hegedű,the fiddle cries,and every…
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