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4 July 2019
STRIDE Heat has soaked the house, the sun is bare and brash, and there’s a bumblebee, hardly alive, hauling its bulk on pin-thin legs that are too frail for support. This is the third bee I’ve seen today. The third to die before my eyes. It stopped my stride and held my heart. …
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The Wind Changed
1 July: The weather turned on Sunday. Saturday was hot. Sunday the wind changed, and the clouds rolled in. Then it rained. Heaven opened, and drowned us. THE WIND CHANGED ON SUNDAY I remember Sundays as sin-free. I’d put on my best dress. My best shiny black shoes. A bit of small change in my…
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Miz Quickly’s Day 29: Magpie
Magpie I’m sitting on a limb, watching a man reading a newspaper. From way up here I have a wide view of Sunday. North a few blocks, and ten miles south to the coast. The man reading the newspaper wears a gold ring. It’s sunshine-bright. I want that ring. for Miz Quickly’s Day…
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Once Upon the Fumes of Night
Once Upon the Fumes of Night I belong to a full moon, a face of an angel that rides the tops of trees. Sleek as blond silk. It follows me in peace until the sun comes up, that glaring invisible scar that’s thirsty as salt. ©️ Misky 2019 Inspired by the poem “As I…
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Miz Quickly’s Words
Easy I married a fella whose thick hair is the colour of vanilla. That man can always make me laugh. He has an easy way about him. Breezy. Buzzing. Not buzzy-pesty. More like busy-buzzy. But those eyes; dark as carbon and wise as all creation. And the man can cook. ©️ Misky 2019 Miz Quickly’s…
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Miz Quickly’s Triplets
Sometimes the Sun Shines This is not paradise – it just rained, the humidity is on the rise, again. An ascension. It’s not a great saviour. I miss hummingbirds. Seagulls, that’s all we have. A few blue tits. Don’t forget slugs – it’s the rain, again. Clear. Warm. Clouds of true white silk. The beech…
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Miz Quickly’s Alchemy
Egg Alchemy It’s all about that last egg. Stashed like a pearl, a gem hurled like a ball to the back of the fridge. In the outfield. And so I fried it. On toast it sits with bits of ham. A spill of golden yolk. Oh man. Oh man, now we’re talking. Wow. Pass the…
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Miz Quickly Day 21
Iced Tea and Hot Beef Broth This is an ugly duckling summer. Dim set and pallid as December. We are drowning in sweaters. Steaming beef broth in mugs. There’s thunder in the wind, and rain thorny sharp. But still, hope lives long, that summer soon swans gently into July. for Miz Quickly’s Day…
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Country Life and Other Myths Created by Katie Melua
Country Life and Other Myths Created by Katie Melua There aren’t 9-million bicycles in Beijing, and we’re not 12-billion light years from the edge. However, there are 7,843 steps as you walk on cobblestones that threaten to roll your ankle like cigarette paper. I’m strolling the weathered planks of the pier at Bandholm harbour. The…
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Ars Poetica Views Over the Marstal Bugt
Ars Poetica Views Over the Marstal Bugt A poem is sitting on this bench It’s mostly green. Except for Seagull guano Looks Ars Poetica. A poem needs strategic placement. A swan in the reeds. Two blackbirds in the elm tree. A poem is a breeze in my right ear. A poem is a ferry crossing.…
It's Still Life 