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A Poem In the Style of Mary Oliver
A Poem In the Style of Mary Oliver I’ve never been one to stand under the midday sun, but here I am, noon, and my shadow has disappeared below my feet, and I’m watching ants chase summer. Rain falls through the leaves, and I feel thunder underfoot. The ants, pause. I pause. We taste the…
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for Miz Quickly’s Day 11
Silver in the Shadows At heart, I am a coyote, and My view is from the shadows. I speak softly. I am Silver. Clear. Aging. Memories shimmer. The moon watches me With its acne-scared face. The ground is still, but there’s Still speed in my legs. At heart, I am always a coyote. …
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Miz Quickly’s Day 10
My Grandma Wore Mink The sheets. The folded towels. Even the pink toilet paper was scented lavender. She wore every base and treble note of purple. Lived in it. She smelled of Avon. Grandma added spoonfuls of sugar to string beans, made dumplings so soft angels wanted to sit on them. Crystal long-stem glasses are…
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Georgics: Miz Q’s Day 9
The Return We knocked down the old wooden greenhouse. Rot pressing through it. Weather beaten, grey, and the soil bare. Behind it grew an apple tree, though never yielding but a leaf, and so it too was cut to ground. Five years on, the apple tree returned to growth, pigmy-small and full of leaf. We…
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PB’s Memoir Chapbook Project: 9 July 2019 Draft
(Draft: As Yet Untitled) My grandma lived in a two bedroom shiplap house that was halfway up the biggest hill in town. She sold parakeets and canaries in the big bedroom. She slept in a little room off the kitchen. Grandma had rabbits. Every Sunday there was one less — cooked them in a black…
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Miz Quickly’s Day 8 Words
The words are: travelling, bend, moon, companion, and roadside ROAD TRIP I. The moon was my travelling companion until it disappeared behind a roadside bend. II. The rising moon to my left, the road bends like wind through trees. III. I’m travelling with the Wilbury’s on the radio. There’s no bad moon rising. IV. Stopped…
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PB Memoir Chapbook Challenge “Moments”
BACK WHEN: SIDE OF THE ROAD MEMORIES Back in the day when I was young, climbing trees held no fear in me, back when a Sunday ride in the car after church was more than tradition, back when Dad would stop the car by the side of the road and disappear into the underbrush and…
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Miz Quickly’s 2 July
Not Everything Deserves a Title Even after looking up the definition, I don’t understand Id unless it’s to do with eating spoonfuls of Nutella straight out of the jar. ©️ Misky 2019. for Miz Quickly’s Id prompt of 2 July
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for Miz Quickly 6 July
To Wake in the Middle of Ages Oh, to those renaissance spies of wit and disguise, who hid in their fruit’s finest perfumes. Who hid in overripe stains of grapes, soiling their fine textiles. They churned earth underfoot, and kissed the soles of feet. Spread thoughts that shook the jowls, and kept their secrets clamped-shell…
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for July’s Visual Verse
The Magnetic Ms Stella I called her Ms Stella. No reason. Just did. She was supposed to be a metal art installation. I started by grave-robbing contents of the junk drawers. Found a big magnet, a zygote lump of lead that pulled and tugged iron like a Siren’s song. First came, 2 screws, 4 bolts,…
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