Category: dVerse
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06.10 dVerse Quadrille 257
What I Carry Taken from a pebble-dashed beach, this pieceof sharp-edged flint, a gift from his small hand into my pocket — and I carry it around,its weight warm against my hip. It’s as if his hand still holds both itand my autumn heart. Written for dVerse Poets, a quadrille of forty-four words including pocket. Photograph is…
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30.09: dVerse Haibun
Reflections on Sight and Shadows Not yet, but nearly. “In the sunlight we are all blind,” she says. Winter sun lies low, barely touching the alley, missing the cat, the rat, the chase. She tilts her head; her ears lean into the wind as it troubles the fence slats and moves through them with a…
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2808: dVerse Landscapes
Hay Brown this cruel heat that frames us,this persisting dry, return me to English summers, the scent of chlorophyll, and the sight of dew’s lustre. he longs to mow stripes againthrough grassgone hay-brown. this persisting dryis an old man’s cough. I remember the pink glowof the hydrangea, it filled the window,axed the sunof its heatfrom…
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1706: dVerse Quadrille
Mythic An old woman tells a storywhile rain taps the window. The children lean in closer. The wolf is gone, she says,though the forest remains. The facts have long sincevanished, but the myth remains —sitting by the firewarming his furry paws. Written for dVerse Quadrille “myth” 44-words sans title. Some images created with Midjourney; all…
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19 May: dVerse Ekphrastics
Bride with a Fan She is made of hush —blue air, white petals,a face turned inwardas though listeningfor the vow before it is spoken. The veil does not hide her;it teaches light to soften.Even her silence seems paintedwith a tremor of winter sky. In her hand, the fan openslike a small, private weather,something between a…
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2804: Haibun Monday
No Facebook. No X. Less news — especially politics and war. It seems endless, a kind of tinnitus. I move through the day in relative silence, reclaiming space, attentive again to the small things around me, freed from the relentless alarms of a thousand strangers. Today, after lunch, I sat in the sun and drifted…
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2502: dVerse Hunger
Hunger for the Quiet of Stars Not for bread. Not for knowing.This hunger has no mouth. It pulls toward the hourwhen clocks forget purpose,when the sky’s deep bruiseoffers its cold, patient pulse. To fold inward like a held breath.To be,the star no one names. Written for DVerse Poets Quadrille “hunger” Image from Nasa: Cat Eye Nebula.…
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1401: dVerse Quadrille
Rainy Smile You ask why I am smiling.This grey dawnis its own kind of gift;the rain’s rhythmon the windowpane is a hymn I understand—the world,in its wet,patient way,offers itself to me again.And I say, yes,thank you. written for dVerse Poets Quadrille #239 “smile” , poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2026.
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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…
