Category: #apoemaday
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Glo/NaPoWriMo: Day 4, A Prompt
For Old Women Who Find Their Wings You wake up, and leave the curtains closed. What will the neighbours think: a. you’re still sleeping, b. you died in your sleep. Listen to the weather. Give it a colour. Sit on the edge of the bed, feel your weight. Give your weight a colour that clashes…
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Glo/NaPoWriMo: Day 1
Written as prose: The Fall When old women fall, they lose their voice. Their legs go funny angles, all catawampus like Bambi on that frozen lake. And when they call for help, their voice shrinks, an echo in their porous bones, a wobble sound that no one hears . . . . . h.h.h.help. And…
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The Greens and Blues of It
The Greens and Blues of It Here I am wandering around,lost on oak-spiked hilltops, and admiring the serenityof sheep and shadows, and I am as surplus to this dayas ribbons are surplus to a gift. And until today, I’d never seena kestrel kill a rabbit. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting #apoemaday on Twitter
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Day 18: He and I and Buttons
He & I – a World Covered in Buttons We take a brisk walk in the forest.Pine air.Mud singsin the rubber soles of our shoes. A euphoric dog slips in and outof rust-dried bracken, its tailcycling the air for balance. Cold haunts the shadows here.it’s sodden and bare, one expectsit in January after sliding rain.…
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And Suddenly It’s Monday
AND SUDDENLY IT’S MONDAY Pick a childhood memory, he says. “Beatles. Hello Goodbye” I don’t even hesitate. Late 60s are vivid in my head. It redeemed itself as timeless, I tell him, and it was playing as the turkey roasted in the oven, bread stuffing spilling out and on the verge of catching light. And…
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Day 16 A Genius Under the Table
A Book Called A Genius Under the Table ……. assuming that my kids are geniuses The children tinkeredwith a wishbone,pulling and not pulling,wishing the other to snap. There were days when I thought they might rip-up the sky, while I was busy, buried in life. Written for GoDogGo Café. A Book called “A Book Called A…
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Day 14: The Mirror and the Palette
The Mirror and the Palette I love lilies.Mum hated them. But that’s not why I love them, although there was that contrary friction between us from time to time. I love them becausethey smell like church. Mum hated them becausethey smell like church. When Mum’s father passed away, Grandma filled the church with white lilies.…
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Day 14: #JusJoJan “Freckled”
A FRECKLED SKY OF STARS There’s a flute in the trees.Did you hear its song.It’s as short as a dream. A whispered lullaby.A cellar into sleep. Close your itchy eyeson night’s freckled stars.Dream across the sky. Written for Day 14: JusJoJan “Freckled” ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting #apoemaday on Twitter
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Q14: A Journey of Limited Space
A JOURNEY OF LIMITED SPACE I’ll pack a bag,lock out thoseleathery tongues ofnews and politics. Packa bag full of memoriesfor a long journey into light. I’ll close my eyes and close my lips,hold the world between two fingers. Yesterday, I opened a drawerand discovered I’ve beencollecting elastic rubber bands. A box of them.And a jar…
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Day 10: Miz Quickly’s Change
FILLING UP THE FLOWERS Triggers are in the air. The weather feels gypsy-restless, it makes ones head and shoulders rise above its huddledcomforts. It’s time to weed browns from the garden,plant silver skinned bulbs. Our hands hold lifeevery time spring finds us. Written for Miz Quickly Day 10: Changes. ©Misky 2022 Shared with #amwriting #apoemaday on…
It's Still Life 