Category: Miz Q
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The Wind Changed
1 July: The weather turned on Sunday. Saturday was hot. Sunday the wind changed, and the clouds rolled in. Then it rained. Heaven opened, and drowned us. THE WIND CHANGED ON SUNDAY I remember Sundays as sin-free. I’d put on my best dress. My best shiny black shoes. A bit of small change in my…
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Miz Quickly’s Day 29: Magpie
Magpie I’m sitting on a limb, watching a man reading a newspaper. From way up here I have a wide view of Sunday. North a few blocks, and ten miles south to the coast. The man reading the newspaper wears a gold ring. It’s sunshine-bright. I want that ring. for Miz Quickly’s Day…
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Miz Quickly’s Words
Easy I married a fella whose thick hair is the colour of vanilla. That man can always make me laugh. He has an easy way about him. Breezy. Buzzing. Not buzzy-pesty. More like busy-buzzy. But those eyes; dark as carbon and wise as all creation. And the man can cook. ©️ Misky 2019 Miz Quickly’s…
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Miz Quickly’s Triplets
Sometimes the Sun Shines This is not paradise – it just rained, the humidity is on the rise, again. An ascension. It’s not a great saviour. I miss hummingbirds. Seagulls, that’s all we have. A few blue tits. Don’t forget slugs – it’s the rain, again. Clear. Warm. Clouds of true white silk. The beech…
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Miz Quickly’s Alchemy
Egg Alchemy It’s all about that last egg. Stashed like a pearl, a gem hurled like a ball to the back of the fridge. In the outfield. And so I fried it. On toast it sits with bits of ham. A spill of golden yolk. Oh man. Oh man, now we’re talking. Wow. Pass the…
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Miz Quickly Day 21
Iced Tea and Hot Beef Broth This is an ugly duckling summer. Dim set and pallid as December. We are drowning in sweaters. Steaming beef broth in mugs. There’s thunder in the wind, and rain thorny sharp. But still, hope lives long, that summer soon swans gently into July. for Miz Quickly’s Day…
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Ars Poetica Views Over the Marstal Bugt
Ars Poetica Views Over the Marstal Bugt A poem is sitting on this bench It’s mostly green. Except for Seagull guano Looks Ars Poetica. A poem needs strategic placement. A swan in the reeds. Two blackbirds in the elm tree. A poem is a breeze in my right ear. A poem is a ferry crossing.…
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Miz Quickly Day 13
A Prayer To you, and you and him and her, to them and those that I do not know, to those who’ve passed and those yet to come, to you, and you, I bid you peace. for Miz Quickly: Day 13 ©️ Misky 2019
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Miz Quickly Day 10
It Takes One to Know One There’s a woman who’s watching flashes of gold koi in a pond. They swarm and nibble cubes of bread that she offers. And the water hums and vibrates. She has that smell of poetics about her. Not flowery. More like fried onions. It settles and seeps in deep. Takes…
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Nudge #23
A Storm It’s a storm in the teapot. Not a cup; it’s a proper pot. With a spout, and a snug-fitting top to keep a lid on it all. That pot is a simmering swamp. Like a ship on the horizon that defines what you can’t see. Or rainwater that’s not safe to drink. Like…
It's Still Life 