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5 Oct: Ten Things of Thankful
I am still away in the Rhône Alps, so photos are a minimum. I might make a post for them after I’m back home. You are invited to the Inlinkz link party! Click here to enter https://fresh.inlinkz.com/js/widget/load.js?id=c0efdbe6b4add43dd7ef Welcome to TToT (Ten Things of Thankful) blog hop! Join bloggers from all over the world as we…
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28 Sept: Mystical Sunday
The Jar-Keeper (A Six Sentence Story) She keeps them in mason jars — not the whole eyes, mais non, just their colours. Jar #1: hazel flecked with gold, stolen from a baker who smiled too wide.Jar #2: a pale blue like a winter promise, taken from the gaze of a woman who never blinked at…
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28.09: Au Revoir
Gone to dance On The Bridge of Avignon, drink the Rhône, and eat my bodyweight in cheese — back when the moon pulls the tide of my feet. Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2025.
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27.09: Window & Snow
Window and Snow SenryuChild in red stands still —Nose pressed to frozen magic,a world that breathes warm. HaikuSnow drifts through lamplight,evergreen shadows glitter,winter hums its song. Written for “I Write Her” A senryu and a haiku based on an image of a small child standing in front of a Christmas window display, wearing a red insulated winter jacket…
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27.09: MicroDosing 100µg
The wheat stood like an army of old men, with their backs bent but unbroken, their gold gone dull under the autumn flat sky. A kestrel circled high above — on a breeze that smelled of turned earth and too soon endings. Its cry was a needle pulling a thread of silence through the day.…
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27.09: A Triptych
Triptych: A Secret Music I. Soundboard Low notes pool —amber, deep,soaking the heartwood. High notes fall —shards of lightclinging to ebony. The lid trembles, a held breath.Even silence wears a gloss of oak. II. The Pianist Wrist, a willow branch.Jaw, a carved vow. He listensto the shadowed-note,the echo before the strike. One finger brushes a…
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26.9: Ten Things of Thankful
I am thankful for the people I’ve loved and who’ve allowed me to be part of their lives. To Carolyn: rest in peace. To Eigil: Always. The flowers in my garden are nearly finished, gone to seed, and shall return in the spring. Until then, I have A.I. to fill my heart with colour. Grapes…
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26.09: An Imagist Poem
Choice (an Imagist Poem) Choice is the mug I didn’t take —the chipped one,her favorite. Choice sits in silence —across the kitchen table,next to the phone I didn’t answer. A single sock on the radiator.The coat still on its hook.The choice not to go. Choice folds itselfinto the napkin I twistedwhile the pasta went cold.…
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25.09: A Six Sentence Story
Seven Seven: prime, indivisible, stubbornly herself. She is a parenthesis of grace, a question mark of sunlight — “Can you do this?” she asks as she unfolds into a perfect split on the kitchen tiles, a compass toward joy and impossibility. Her hair is a midnight river streaked with ribbons — not just purple, but…
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25.09: A Thursday Door
Red arch silent stands,Aged stone guards dusk’s gleam,Leaf-shadow whispers near —Dreams wait beyond the seam. a Tang Dynesty Jueju poem Bushboy (Brian Dodd) shares photos of doors, but not just any doors. Spectacular doors from his journeys. Dan’s Thursday Doors opened the door on this. I love doors of all sorts. I’ve trawled through my photos and…
It's Still Life 