Category: Old Woman With No Cat
-
8.04: A Six of Ordinary Apocalypses
The Garden of Ordinary Apocalypses (A Six Sentence Story) The Old Woman with No Cat Finds The Aleph The old woman with no cathaunts the edge of myth with a crow that’s black as an obsidianpsalm. “Look closer,” rasps the crow,“your spade’s a universe,a cellar of light—your spadeisaxis mundi.” She digs, and a worm curls—not…
-
7.04: Poem-a-Day Challenge
The Birdbath Aleph the old woman with no catrefills the birdbath. it’s half-rusted,and holds all the waterand thirst of the sky. a single featherfloats like a commain god’s draftof the world. the cat is a cosmic overlord, watching. “The ocean,” he marvels,“is just a birdbathfor baptisingfragments of heaven.” PAD (Poem-a-Day Challenge) Day 6 with Prompt:…
-
06.04: The Old Woman Without a Cat
About The Old Woman Without a Cat The Old Woman and the Spiral Eyes the old woman with no cat—her vision unwinds itselflike a cassette tape left in the rain—the world smudges, blooms,becomes an impressionist’s afterthought. rest your rebel eyes, says the cat,knocking over her reading glassesfor the third time today.(it claims it’s helping.) she…
-
04.4: Old Woman With No Cat
Knees That Leave Fossils the earth remembersthe old woman with no cat— remembers her, not as a saint, but as a forcewhose knees leave fossils in the soil— kneel long enough,and even prayer becomes a root. The crow approves. “Finally—a saint who digsinstead of floating.” PAD (Poem-a-Day Challenge) Day 4 with Prompt: mess. Some artwork…
-
02.04: The Old Woman Without a Cat
More About The Old Woman Without a Cat The Old Woman With No Cat and the Crow the old woman with no catsits in her wicker chair,spring sunlightwarming her bones, arranged like kindlingwaiting for warmth from a match. a crow hops across the lawn,its feathers oil-slick black,a hole in the world’s brightness, one foot, then…
-
01.04: The Old Woman Without a Cat
The Old Woman Without a Cat the old woman with no cat sitson the garden step in perfect past tense,next to daffodils that are going papery dry and swollen with seeds. she knows she should snap off theirlittle dead heads, leave them headless as if she were a protagonistin a nursery rhyme, but instead she…