Category: dVerse
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dVerse Clowning Around
Just Cousins We packed the car so nothing would rattle,that sort of thing set Dad’s teeth on edge,and we headed for our vacation. The lake. The lake, where you and I would go to hidefrom the little ones who wanted to stickto us like ceiling paint, where you’d drink beer, and I drank grape Nehi…
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Prosery: 18 August 2020
Mausoleum Marble My hand is on the oblong flatness of white marble where you sleep. Your death sleep. Your soul’s rest. And I expect the marble to be cold, but it’s not. It’s warm. Though not by the low November sun, perhaps it’s your eternal warmth. I think heaven opened its door when it saw…
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A dVerse Stream of Consciousness
Masking A new face mask arrived in the post today.It wasn’t a surprise – I ordered it online.Took a photo of it with my phone, andsent it to Alison, my next door neighbour. “Cute print!“ she WhatsApped me back. (she’s outside my shielding bubble; wehaven’t hugged in 6 months; we shoutback and forth over the…
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I’m a Speck on the Lake
I’m a Speck on the Lake Adrift on an inner tube that’slarge and black as a serpent’smouth, or a ship afloat on a lake,and I’m watching thunder cloudsgrowing, and blooming white. I’m a continental drift, somewherebetween heaven and its echo. for Twiglet # “Blooming White” and dVerse “Come Sail” © Misky 2020 Image WikiArt Air…
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A Sestina for Miz Quickly
A Sestina: Rum Dreams The tide revealed more beachthan I’d ever seen. Dark brimmingwaves drinking in sand, and a blackmood of clouds shrouding tearsand chunks of sky. Gusts takingto air our towels. Umbrellas. We two women clamped our knuckled twohands on our straw hats. The beachemptied. Holiday-makers ran, takingshelter in huts roofed with straw brims.A…
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dVerse Views
In This Summer Bright Room This is my room.I am its centre. This is my mother.My father.Their photos framed.They are with meon the windowsill,with my children,and their own children,with this dog and that dogwhose livesenriched mine. The wall behind meis shelved with books.References to this and that,that fiction, and those maps,this ancient history,and that archeology.Volumes…
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dVerse Quadrille #108
How To Bake A Pie In 44 Words While Mum grew salad leaves and cherry tomatoes between the French marigolds, I made sloppy mud pies in an old tin, dotted it with blackberries picked from brambles bushes, mostly those level with my dog’s lifted back leg. I was 8. Mum was older. © Misky 2020 Quadrille #108: 44 words,…
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The Picnic Sonnet
The Picnic She doesn’t usually pack a pork pie to share, or a big wedge of cheddar and soda bread from the bakery, which she will let Jimmy think is homemade, unless he asks, and she wouldn’t usually pack two pickled onions, four gherkins, a large Scotch egg, ripe tomatoes and cucumber, or brown pickle…
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A Moment for a Haibun
I’m watching a grey squirrel who gives me an occasional cautious glance, and it’s shredding the birds table into bits, tossing pieces of wire and mesh around, and then you say, The air smells so fresh this morning, like chlorophyll — and the squirrel is hurling abuse and obscenities at the bird feeder because it’s…
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