Category: PA
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Day 8 NaPoWriMo 2021
NaPoWriMo Day 8(written in the style of Spoon River Anthology, E.L. Masters) Misky B. I was born in a clean, bleach-scented hospital after my mother ate a bowl of chilli con carne, and then took a long walk on the sand dunes. I was left in the hospital for a few weeks so my mother…
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Day 7: Useless Sheep (Rewrite)
I.NaPoWriMo: A Shadorma (3/5/3/3/7/5) AND TO ALL A GOODNIGHT In herself, a slow dying light. …
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Day 7 NaPoWriMo 2021
I.For dVerse Poets: The Insomniac This girl wants a slow dying light,a shallow moment within herself.She extinguishes brightness, a joyous dark rise from the scentof deep sleep. A fall into slowness. To wake from dreams is to be reborn.Candles snuff out their light tothe high rising morning sun, andyou’ll hear her cry of defeat as shewishes…
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Day 5 NaPoWriMo 2021
I.The First Morning After That first flight of stairstrod on by 500 years of footfall,stones worn, and sunken likesaddles, shaped to cradle each foot. Her old house holds old memories. She makes her way down the stairs,care always, unsure of the uneven risers, and reaches the hallway wherehis hat and coat always hung, and then she…
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Day 4: NaPoWriMo 2021
The Local Shop The wife of the local newsagentkeeps her white hair under a scarf.She’s always in the background,in an office with dark stained air, sitting at a desk, calculator at hand,holding a ledger in her left hand.Her words run along her husband’sspine. On a straight and narrow line. He says he runs the shop,…
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Day 3 NaPoWriMo 2021
I.When Lemons Talk A lemon’s voice is a sharp bristled spark.A punch. A fierce argument. Gives yourtongue the hump. Lemon, cold enough to quench August.Lemon, hot enough to cure throaty colds. It puckers. Pulls. It’s a thin lipped laugh,and steals the words from your mouth.It’ll do all the talking, if any’s needed. II. When Lemons…
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Day 2 NaPoWriMo 2021
I.Across the Sea At the end of the pieris a bell that looks likea silver charm. Wind teases the clapper,and its tone leavesmy ears with wingsacross the waves. It passes through light,and travels. I will dothe same, one day. II.These Old Roads Left or rightor straight on,beyond the bridgeor back behind andover Furnace Ridge,it matters…
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Day 1 NoPoWriMo 2021
Poetic Asides Day 1: Introduction to Casual Lapses I.I don’t know where time’s gone.It’s 8-years since we knocked downthe dining room wall. Opened upthe kitchen. Made it all modernwith granite and stainless steel. Replaced the carpets with wood.Believe it or not, I sneeze less. Eight years.Can’t really account for each day,except for when the dog…
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24 November 2020
Haibun: Blown Home I remember the wind as grape-skin smooth as it flowed through the window. It lifted the voile panels — inhaling and exhaling time. The grandfather clock, I turned its key daily, and its oaked-box voice ticking solid and deep, geared-teeth grinding away at our eternity. That wind always came out of the…
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19 November 2020
That Tomato Red Chevy That car was work boots.Creaked like knees forcedinto bending at 6 in the morning,and rolled around cornerslike a tomato. It was windblownwith the windows rolled down.The bumper hung half off, clatteringas it sang wind chime songsto the pavement. Nothing ever happened in that carthat needed our confessing, but wewrapped around each…
It's Still Life 