Category: AI Art
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11.11: At the Intersection of Odd Numbers
A Way In The door had always been red — not bright, not cherry, but the dull rust of dried blood and arm-folded resolve. Brigid pressed her palm against it, feeling the wood grain beneath the scabs of paint, crusty layers that reminded her of scraped knees, sun-hot pavement, blood blooming through grit … and…
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman Explains Thanksgiving (and other Impossibilities) The cat’s draped across the kitchen table.One paw outstretchedtoward November’s windowwhere a plump pheasant strutsthrough the frost. “Why,” the cat begins, in a tone suggesting a legal challenge,“do Brits not have a feast?And why is that bird so rude,…and so large?It’s taunting me.” The Old Woman sighs,wiping…
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8.11: Journal of Thoughts
when beauty touches bone Senryu sunset spills its firewe talk of dreams in silenceas if time were ours Haiku dune shadows deepenthe desert holds winter lightlike an old secret Written for I Write Her’s SenHai Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.
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7.11: Ten Things of Thankful
1.Grateful that we waited to buy travel and medical insurance for our Christmas trip to Bogotá because we received a 25% discount voucher. The early bird doesn’t always catch the worm. 2.The start of a new Six Sentence Story series for Brigid. Thankful for the opportunity to stretch my writing beyond poetry with very talented writers.…
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At the Intersection of Odd Numbers
From The Intersection of Odd Numbers Both Questions and Answers The dustof long absence stirs windows unsealed the old airescapesso the newladen with garlic and rain-damp streets might enter. Letfamiliar tunesbe hummedeven ifthe words areforgotten. Letthe crowprotest and the floorboardsgleamunderthe slowpromiseof a mop. For a personstands at the door apronstained…
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3.11: At the Intersection of Odd Numbers
At the Intersection of Odd Numbers: A New Beginning (Parts 1 & 2) Brigid’s back in the city, mop in hand, crow in tow, and at the intersection of odd numbers, the door to something new just creaked open. (A Six Sentence Story — Prompt: “cross”) A Mop and Bucket (Part 1) Brigid coaxes the…
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02.11 The Old Woman With No Cat
The Old Woman, the Cat, and the Apple Tree of Chaos(Old Fashioned Chaos) The apple tree,drunk on starlight and spite,heaves its roots like Cetus, a sea serpent of soil— thunk against the fence,crack through the patio, its fruit rolling into the neighbour’s gardenlike tiny, rosy planetsescaping orbit. The cat(still not hers, never hers)watches from the…
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31.10: Of Samhain
The Return of the Wise Woman The PreparationThe world has gone thinat the edges.The air, a gossamer veil,smells of apples and smoke. A single candle is lit,a sun in a kitchen windowoverlooking the sea.It is the same flame grandmother lit,and her grandmother before her. A beacon.A welcome.A promisethat the hearth is still tended. The InvocationShe…
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30 Oct: Ten Things of Thankful
1. The week started off with frost. I’m thankful that the temperature didn’t dropped lower. They had snow from the Highlands to the Borders. 2. Thankful that Peder and I love veg; it makes for an easy and quick dinner. Lots of chill peppers and oyster sauce. 3. The Apostle Trees have dropped most of…
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30.10: dVerse Haibun
A Samhain Haibun On Samhain night she lit a single candle in the kitchen window, the way her grandmother had taught her: a flame for the ones who still wander. The air smelled of apples and smoke; the world had gone thin at the edges, and she thought she heard the old woman’s tread across…
It's Still Life 