Category: dVerse
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3.12 dVerse Zero

From a Silent, Fertile Womb From zero,the world blooms. Not from two,but from that void’s deep hum, the unmade promise,the breath before Yes. We are all bornof this silent, round womb, this nothing that dreamtof being something,and spun itself into you and me. And now for something completely different: Written for dVerse Poets: Quadrille – word…
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12.11: dVerse Prosery

The Coming I stirred the embers with a bone-handled spoon, watching the light ebb from the fields. The year was thinning; even the crows sounded hollow. Yet I smiled, for then and not yesterday, I learned to know the love of bare November days before the coming of the snow. It was a respect without…
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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…
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23 Sept: dVerse Quadrille

Petals (a Quadrille in an Imagist poem form) Petals, arabesque and swaying.Petals, brimming as bright asa morning star. Petals soft as scented heaven.Petals’ sorrow plucked for joy. “Loves me-loves me not,” criedpetals on black-eyed, doom-dark eyes—petalled tongues whispering. Petals witheron the ground.Petals the scytheforgot. Written for dVerse Poets Quadrille (44-words) in an Imagist poem form. Some artwork…
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16 Sept: dVerse Prosery

Sulphur and Silence The city never learned how to be quiet — Elias liked it that way; the noise smothered his wife’s laugh. He sat in his worn armchair, the one she always called a mistake, watching the world blur past his third-floor flat. The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes moved…
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9 Sept: dVerse Quadrille

So Much Between So much dependson the moon’s pale hinge,the way night folds its dark velvetover the day’ssharp edges. So much is still heldin the soft hush —the unsaid,the almost, the breath betweengoodnightand a dream’sfirst tender sigh. This quadrille (44-words, sans title) is written for Dee’s dVerse Poets Quadrille #231 “much”. Some artwork is created using Midjourney…
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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…
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26 Aug: dVerse Quadrille

Tumultus Mus Musculus (44-Word Quadrille) The mice throw a rumpus —wearing tiny top hats,and drinking whiskey from thimbles.They’re spinning a walnut, and waltzing on tables. But —are those cat’s eyesgleaming like diamondsthrough keyholes? Dance on, my darlings.Dawn wants to steal your shoes. Kim invites us at dVerse Poets to write a Quadrille #230 about a “rumpus” Some…
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12 Aug: dVerse Quadrille #229

Last Laugh of a Dandelion That little flower refused to shut up —jabbering of moon-drunk alley cats,tomorrow’s lost socks,and how the dark craves mischieflike a thief craves silvered moonlight.“Hush,” I pleaded, but it only laughed,“I’m a dandelionwho refuses to be a weed.” Soundtrack note: “Some flowers gossip in moonlight, some in mercy — either way,…
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23 July: dVerse Prosery

Equinox She was a daughter of light, yes — but even as a child, she watched the shadows move first. They gathered beneath her bed like cats. Flicked the candles when no wind stirred. Knew her name before she did. She tried to stay loyal to the sun. Woke early. A sunrise child. Let its…