Category: Twiglets
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Twiglet #27
Breakthrough I. When the world was mud, and its surface was soft, we didn’t need all 120 colours. Didn’t need a big box of crayons every Christmas. Everything was black and white back then. II. Mum said we kids were the muddied hue of a drainage ditch. A wee squelch. Squelching is no bad thing…
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Twiglet #26
But Who’s Counting Dad smoked his first and last cigarette when he was 16. He joined the Navy when he was 16, too. Lied, he did. Said he was 18. No birth certificate, he told the enlister, which was true — every record in the city hall burnt when the records room caught fire. A…
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for Twiglet #23
He did seem taller than I remembered; maybe his hair was shorter. #17Syllables for Twiglet #23 “his hair was shorter”. Image is from Unsplash, used without restriction.
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Twiglet #17 “Rattling Winter”
The Last Rattle Two birds are bickering in the grass. They stop. Watch a girl with blue shoes run down the garden path. The child’s hair is the colour of silvered honey, licked by the moon. She’s winter’s last rattle, and the birds feel it in the air. written for dVerse “Nature” and…
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Twiglet #16 “those grapevines”
Rooted in Density He misread erratic for erotic. He read on and on, told himself, “just wait for it – wait for it” but erotic never came, and now he stands over those grapevines, waiting for them to grow him some wine. “just wait for it – wait for it” he whines. Next he’ll be…
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Twiglet #15 “Rushing Water”
Mostly Messages I roll on to my side, looking at the blue dancing numerals on the clock radio, and curse the wretchedness of 4 o’clock. I’m wide awake. There must be a reason why … The bedroom is filled with soft snoring and sounds of rain hurrying into the downspouts. Mum always said that if…
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Twiglet #14 “Shedding Dust”
A Season for Feet I have dusty memories of summer heat, my feet swollen and bleating. But my winter feet are porcelain streams — cold and slow — a ponderous white in sturdy shoes. So I wait for summer days with elderberry clouds, and country lanes shedding dust on my wandering feet. written…
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Twiglet #13 “Vapour Curls”
Dream Songs Pastel smooth she sleeps long as cloudless blue, her dreams sweet carnations, and I sing lullabies and warble bird songs soft as vapour curls. written for “Twiglet #13” Vapour Curls
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Twiglet #12 “Even the Ducks”
It’s one of those sticky bitumen days when even ducks sink like stones… written for The Twiglets #12 “Even the Ducks“. Poetic Form: American Sentence (17 syllables)
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Twiglet #9 “It’s a Ball”
She’s a Ball she’s a ball, bright as chemical green and just as bouncy, a percussion bite like a pricked balloon, and only when she’s steady as a very long fuse does her skin fade into silence. written for Twiglet #9 “It’s a Ball”
It's Still Life 