Category: dVerse
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Quadrille 75 and Twiglet 117
Draining Dark I recall a broad moon spiked high on treetop forks, a weave of breezes moving the day’s heat in chattering stops. Moon shadows soaking leaves and roots, and all winter we waited for its radiant silk, a milky moon that drained dark from night. For dVerse’s Quadrille #75, include the word…
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Quadrille #73
A Gathered Net And what if my brown-eyed wishes gathered into a fisherman’s net, into oil and greased twine and knot, and soused silver-finned fish big as a whitened loaf. Would all my wishes come home to roost, if my wishes were kisses, would I be loved. dVerse Quadrille #73
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for Twiglet #112
A House of Sticks and Straw There’s a place in my head where I sing to myself. Talk to myself. A space for my very small voice. I’m loud and bold inside my head, but in truth I’m a half empty cup pretending that I’m half full. And, carrying a tune is no small thing.…
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for dVerse Quadrille #72
A Fall Skyward It is blowing out there in that field where rapeseed grew. The old oak laboured and fell, roots skyward. It snapped through icy power lines, and splashed like a whale on to the rain-steeped fallow soil. Today was hijacked by a weathercock spinning wild. dVerse Quadrille #72: Steep
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for dVerse and Sunday Whirl
Alone with Trees Walk. I walk with my thoughts, wild. Wild as wind, pebble-sharp. Chipped. And I think, Repent. Repent. I drink in loneliness of air, and wonder how I’ve come to love despair This week’s Sunday Whirl #387 words are: walk, knees, despair, world, love, pebbles, wild, air, lonely, calls, trees, repenting…
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Twiglet #108 and dVerse Haibun
Gone. Too soon our celebrations done. Customs. Quaint. Traditions and rites. That was then. But now, on this stretch of unhurried street, all’s quiet. It seems tarnished. Drowned in icy rain and galvanised sky. A Christmas tree hidden between bins and the wall. It’s seen happy days — good will and peace on earth. Now…
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Quadrille #70 – Untitled
Quadrille #70 – Untitled Memories from My Aunt’s Kitchen I recall laughter in the kitchen. Condensation on the windows. Net curtains. Yellowed. Frilly tie-backs. Ruffled aprons with long ties. Politics in the living room. Stinging scents — cigars, whiskey. Cheers, they said. We children, we were told to go away. And we did. …
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Quadrille #68
Perfectly Brief There’s a note stuck in the air, like you might do with a rose in water. A note — not bird song, not a metallic clapper or strings of cat gut, but a note, written with crescendo longing. It’s perfectly brief. One word: Wink. Quadrille #68 “Wink“
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The Rise and Fall of Yucking
The Rise and Fall of Yucking Bile He’s yucking in the grocery aisles, yucking leeks and yucking kale, and wailing o’Yuck’o at brussels sprouts and beans green as a May spring day, and in the meat aisle, yucking liver, yucking fish, and then he retches at the sight of toilet brushes Twiglet #97…
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dVerse Quadrille #65
The Carved Wooden Indian Still Stands Outside the Post Office I was right, This is a small town. A fishing port, mostly tourists. Lighthouse by the carpark, Metered parking nowadays. Souvenir shop selling shells, Dried twiggy seahorses, Glass balls. All imported. The ice cream shop’s Closed until May. Fish love A dead quiet harbour. …
It's Still Life 