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1804: Spring Thoughts
A Cadralor Poem for the Apostle Trees I.not bare anymorebut still mostly rememberingwinter in the wood II.the old lime treedecides, one small leaf at a time,to return to itself III.between old branchesspring lights its smallest candlesand waits for wind IV.the sky moves through itblue caught in the blackened limbslike breath through prayer V.not yet in…
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AprPAD — Day 16
Eyes Closed, Garden sensory mapping it’s a new way of seeing.eyes closed. flagstones, rough through the soles.the first before the first is loose.then three.then level — eight even paces.four steps up.grass. lavender, a breath from my right,held high. the birdbath beyondfuller than yesterday.rain speaks in levels. I map the morning in scent:apple blossom; April wind,Cox…
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1604: A Thursday Door
Dan’s Thursday Doors opened the door on my love of doors of all sorts. I’ve trawled through my photos and found a few to share. Bushboy (Brian Dodd) also shares photos of doors from his his journeys. ©Misky 2022-2026 Shared on X #amwriting @bushboywhotweet and @DAntion
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Ten Things of Thankful
Two weeks into the April Poem-a-Day Challenge, and I’ve not run out of ink yet. My Ten this week are centred around home. Spring is coming on fast paced; chores done and more created; a new garden project. The charging pod for my car is installed, so no more power cords hanging out the kitchen…
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AprPAD — Day 15
A CHILD OF DRYADS she faces stormslike rigging in a north wind stillcalmcloth drawn taut she watches waves water that oncedragged her under she remembers the taste the sky above it bitter, unmoved dragons in the water —white-scaled, pebbles gaspinginto mist she knows what lives below the wavesbreaks on shore and keeps her footingwhere the…
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AprPAD — Day 14
Day 14: write a poetry form and its anti-form (I chose poetry form: haiku 5-7-5 and reverse haiku 7-5-7) Haiku:hidden from my viewhoofbeats stitch the morning air sunlight listens in Reverse Haiku:ghost hooves, hear them echoingthrough the falling hushwhere only dawn dares to rise Written for Writers’ Digest Poem-a-Day Challenge for April 2026. Prompt word: form…
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1404: Six Sentence Story
Part 8: Brigid’s Diary, Night on the Rhône — Half-Light and Wake That night on the river I learned how sound can become a weight, the engine’s pulse settling into my bones until sleep itself felt mechanical. The lanterns shook in their brasses, and the Rhône carried a smell of acrid silt and sulfur embers…
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AprPAD — Day 13
The Problem That Was Never Yours she typed into the darkand sent it to my door what’s your problem? three wordsthat weigh too much I could have caught the rockthrown it back instead I don’t have a problembut it seems you do enough my grandmother taught mehow to stop the first stone refuse the target…
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1304: The Liturgy, Part 8
Liturgy for the Mechanical DarkNight on the Rhône, Half Light and Awake I. The Weight of Sound Sound has become a weight.Not noise—noise is fleeting:a shout, a clatter; this thingshuffles marrow in bone. This is weight:the engine’s pulse hammering my bonesuntil sleep feels mechanical,a function rather than a rest. Lanterns shake in their brackets.The floor…
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AprPAD — Day 12
Traveling Music for a Blackbird It’s always been so a cat,dogs,a fox, sometimes,squirrels,mostly birds some need more than I can givesome only need to know morninglight through tulipsdaffodil seedheads swelling I had not slept well a blackbirdnear the fernsstill as stone I warmed a towela dish of water wrapped she stayed quietwhile I hummedold traveling…
It's Still Life 