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2.02.22: VV February 22
A Hundred Butterflies She’s soothed in the colourof old gas light, andsways to a piano’s moan. The warm, dense airhas put her in a weary sort ofsatisfied mood. The moon hanging pregnantly full,and the stars up therehum like bees at the jasmine and honeysuckle.It’s a thick scent thatmakes her head swim, makes her feel light…
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1.02.22: dVerse Haibun
Winter Digs In The way dark digs itself out of soil, or the way February always shivers as ice settles on the straight lines and arches of its letters, and the way the sunrise swells, red and sore as neglect, and yet we always expect morning to reign over us with hope and generosity .…
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01.02.22: Unravelling A Universe
Unravelling A Universe One part of the brain lights upwith memories, smell and soundlights up another part. Occipital for sight. Buttons holdingbits together, like points of conflictin a picture book. Some memories surface, a poolof happiness, some, like sadness,keep themselves imprisoned. Some are raw without husk or shell,like a promise of injury if revisited.But I…
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V.1 Ch.1: Fractional
Originally posted on That's No Way to Wash a Dragon: I was given my first pocket money at the age of six. It was a fraction of money. A quarter of some number. A quarter of an apple, according to Mum who explained money by cutting up fruit. Apples, mostly – we had lots of…
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That’s No Way To Wash A Dragon
Not daily, that’s for sure, but occasionally I’ll reblog posts (less than 150 words) to It’s a Still Life from a new prose-based blog. It’s called That’s No Way to Wash a Dragon, which although it makes me grin, is a rubbish title. It’s bound to change often and regularly. Changing a blog’s title doesn’t change…
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31.1.22 Pseudo Analytical
Pseudo Analytical I.I know a woman with a dusty atticof a mind. She picks apart her past. It’s like she carries Freud’s couchwith her wherever she goes, and she is best described asthat moment when dawn is lost. When doors go shutting.When pigeons bubble sounds. And I am her bag of spare parts. II.I dream…
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30.1.22 for GoDogGoCafe
PATHS Taking new stepson these same old stairs,time-heavied footfall wearsthem to a buffed-up bare. Take hold the balustrade,it’s made from an oak branch,lightning hit it quite by chance.So steady on. Steady on, because we’re all just dust.Just a January wheeze,taking steps that were,shall be, and must. Written for Go Dog Go Cafe’s Tuesday Challenge . Start with…
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29.1.22: I’ve Been Thinking
That’s No Way to Wash a Dragon I been thinking.Flash fiction that’snot fiction. A bit more than a haibun.But not exactly, and illustrated withmedieval manuscriptilluminations from The British Library’sMedieval Manuscripts Archive, andthe French National Library. Reblogged herefrom a new blog. As I said,I’ve been thinking … Image is from British Library Medieval Manuscripts Archive: Digital Illuminations .…
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29.1.22 Inherit Wings
INHERIT WINGS they woke entangled inpale light over pine and church.dew lingering on her lips,and scripture clingingon clergy tongues. The world is full of short sunrises and quick loving, but what will you do when dreams poke through like weeds … this fragile air,this paradise.cloudless as generosity.and they soared over their weeds,and inherited wings. Over…
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28.1.22 Owl on a Bare Branch
AN OWL ON A BARE BRANCH An owl standsand looks backward.Its face closed.Impenetrable.Distant. A freezing explanationhangs in its mouth. A mouse.Limp.Glossy black as the night. The owl turns its head away,wings lift,and it flies upand out of the night. Long-Eared Owl on Bare Tree Branch (c. 1905) by Ohara Koson. Image is in Public Domain ©Misky…
It's Still Life 