Category: prose
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9.2. Wisting
It’s Saturday, 21.00, and I am watching Wisting on BBC 4, Norwegian, subtitled in English, although I don’t need the subtitles, and there’s a man standing on a wooden dock that rocks with the brush of each wave under its pontoons, and a large dog standing on heaped mounds of rock that look shaped by…
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9 Feb: 12 Minutes Past 8
Twelve Minutes Past Eight (A List Poem) Chimney Smoke in curls Grass hard with frost 2 doves pacing the roof ridge Scent of oatmeal A spoon stirring coffee A blackbird singing in the apple treeIce melting in drips Clock-radio playing upstairs Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.
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A Haibun to Darkness
Waiting for the Dark I sit by the window, the winter trees watching over me as daffodils push through soil and crocuses wait for tomorrow’s sun, and I write this, the light fading until gone, until the paper is more part of darkness than day, and I sit through the hour into night, alone by…
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18.12.24 Ink in Thirds
Every Ebb and Sigh I sit here, on a bench, a memorial seat to someone I don’t know, taking in a breath of salt and secrets drifting from the rising sea. This incoming tide is a melody of brine; my dreams; their ghosts; rushing in on the keel of an old ship, sails like fallen…
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9 Nov: Poem-a-Day Challenge
Well, Maybe Not a Thousand … It was the sort of summer that one vaguely remembers – an idle summer of a thousand different hours, except for a few days when Farmer Lars harvested the fields and left stubble and nowhere for rabbits and field mice to hide – hawks waiting in the trees with…
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6 Nov: dVerse Prosery
Paper Trail Somewhere out of the ninth month, midnight came on me suddenly as the first of January. I had lost three months to emails and copious (mostly illegible) notes of maybe-there’s-a-poem-in-this, and to-do/shopping lists, blog comments wanting attention, dozens of daily mail shots from the postman for funeral homes, assisted living, stair lifts, vitamins…
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4 June: dVerse Prosery
THE HOSTILE WITNESS His fate, governed by a clock. Break for tea. Break for lunch. Break his neck from the end of a rope. He trickles sweat like a nervous tide, and whispers, “I pray to God that she may lie forever.” With unopened eye, movement of its blind swivel hidden, an old woman places…
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3 April: Part 3 – The Colour of Walls
Previous instalments of this story: Part 1: The Pull Back Part 2: The Measure of Her Part 2: The Gatekeeper’s ResponsePart 3: The Colour of Walls Part 4: Tectonic Shifts Part 5: Out of the Frying Pan At an Intersection Named After an English King and a SaintPart 3: The Colour of Walls When you’re in the middle of a street you…
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27 March: Part 2 – The Measure of Her
Previous instalments of this story: Part 1: The Pull Back Part 2: The Measure of Her Part 2: The Gatekeeper’s Response Part 3: The Colour of Walls Part 4: Tectonic Shifts Part 5: Out of the Frying Pan Part 6: How to Break Eggs Part 7: A Moon River Part 8: Starlight Shines on the Roof Part 9: Before When Part: 9.1 Flower Power At the Intersection of…
It's Still Life 