Month: Mar 2026
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Cat Establishes Dominance (Or: A Hostile Takeover) The dog arrives with a wag and a woof,all floppy ears and hopeful eyes,unaware it has just walked intoa carefully fortified sovereign nation. The cat watches from the mantelpiece,tail slow and deliberate,like a general surveying a battlefieldbefore the first shot is fired. “So,” he murmurs to the…
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0703: Journal of SenHai
Senryuone small silhouetteall my worries shrink a bitagainst those ridges Haikudawn folds the mountainsin veils of amber and roseone walker, the sky Written for SenHai Saturday #42 . Some images created with Midjourney; all writing is authentically my own original work.©Misky 2006-2026.
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0703: Spring Thoughts
But that crow—the crow is the one who watches me watch. Balanced on the tip of the picket fence,he tilts his head and lets me seethe whole cold mathematics of his eye. He is not bird.He is a theorem with feathers.A calculation of distance,a proof of patience. And when he flies, it will not be…
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0603: Journal of Thoughts
Between the Salt and Pepper We used to wave them off at stations. Kisses pressed into collars,wars with foreign namesdissolving into newsprint. Some came home. Some didn’t. Distancewas a mercy then. Now the table is laid. Salt.Pepper.A glass of waterholding the small reflectionof a child’s face. The television speaks. Bombs fall. A street we have…
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0603: Spring Thoughts
Catkins on the witch hazelhave grown long overnight.Yesterday they were whispers.Today they are sentences,fringed and breeze-trembling,each one a tiny, yellow questionhung out for the wind to answer. And the birds still think I am morning. Some images are a collaboration with Midjourney; all writing is my own original work.©Misky 2006-2026.
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0503: A Thursday Door
A Danish church with ‘kirkeskibe / church ship‘ hanging from the ceiling, symbolising the church as the doorway to heaven and a vessel guiding souls through life’s storms. The ship is also to remember sailors who died at sea. Bushboy (Brian Dodd) shares photos of doors, but not just any doors. Spectacular doors from his journeys. Dan’s…
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0503: Journal of Thoughts
Snowdrop Arithmetic The church croucheslike something that survivedseveral endings. Stone remembersmore than it admits. Foundations laid when handsbelieved in plaguesas weather.Now it stands in our village,pretending permanence. Outside, the graveyardis freckled with snowdrops.White as surrender,white as teeth. Each bloom a small uprising.Each stem threading upwardthrough the cold grammar of bone. No one planted them for…
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0503: Ten Things of Thankful
1) Attention to detail. There is sheer joy in the beauty of noticing things. (the iron hinge on the village church door.) Things are old around here — I’m thankful that they’re appreciated. 2) Snowdrops in the church graveyard. Every spring they bloom over the heads of those below. No, it is not morbid or…
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4003: The Weight of Iron
The Weight of Iron They hang now in museum lights,mute ribs of a vanished beast:plough and pitchfork,sickle with its patient crescent moutha wooden beam bowed like a tired shoulder. But once—they were thunder. A man rose before the sunwhen winter still stitched fields in silver thread.His breath smoked like a small engine of faith.He wrapped…
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0303: Spring Thoughts
Tonight, the Worm Moon.Tonight, the serious thing.The moon that names itself after the casting,the turning,the slow, blind labour beneath the soil. Time to get up.Time to get moving. Time to be, like the crow:the theorem of my own life,the whole cold mathematics of an eye. And the birds still think I’m morning. Some images are…
It's Still Life 