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#9
The Conversation They hurried along with gritty determination. A giant, his wife, a boy with a cow, a cat wearing boots, an ill-humoured mother, trolls and goats, a white rabbit, or possibly a hare, followed by an old woman wearing a grey veil. It draped the entirety of her head to foot. We nodded and…
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A Tritina for Wordle 249
A River’s Moment That river owned grace. Boundless shade from sunshine, and wistful thirsty banks of silken silt as dense as any forest. That river joined roots in a tangled forest, washed slender from tender cells of shade, and it spoke as a single skin. The banks drank up the egg-washed tides, muddy banks of…
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Day 28: A Wooden Door
This prompt called for writing music for poetry. It’s fun. Nor Grammy Award winning stuff but it was fun.
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#8
The Girl from Ink-panema That girl she’s of turquoise ink, a salty spill, a swel- ling heart of sea. She talks to trees cheers the sad- ness from pencils, sings in chirping quiet of stone, myst- erious mermaid who writes with lemon. She decodes the sun, that girl, she believes in ink. dVerse…
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#7
Oreo Black It was a thrown down dare, that sinew fragment sound, like a Joplin-siren-howl. Those Oreo-black crows, they stood still as salt over that swollen wreckage. — a fox, I think. For Sunday Whirl Wednesday’s Six Words: siren fragment wreckage swollen still salty
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Filling In Erasures
The Found Poetry Review continues the month of April with challenging prompts. Today’s is a fill-in-erasure gaps from another person’s poem. To discover the process and read my Found poem for Day 24, pop over to Thirty Days Poetry, Day 24
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Sunday Whirl #248
My Blues Blue is hot. Is cold. Is fired heat across naked sky. Is frozen as the coldest sin. Blue is a scar too deep to heal. Blue light with nowhere to hide. The colour of prophets, The visions beyond hills. Blue is a climb into Babylon. Blue is too close to my heart,…
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Earth Day: Someone Out There Didn’t Like Trees
I was having a play this morning with image layers and erasure poetry, and this appeared from under layer 2. This is my offering to Earth Day. Someone Out There Didn’t Like Trees His feet took to the Saharan sun, wool socks frowned upon, less than correct dress in the red damn sand – dumped…
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In Reply to “Boy & Egg”
In Reply to “Boy and Egg” And that little boy who watches, stands like a sailor on watch, the sun marking his shadow in minutes, and he watches the children at play. They dart in and out of bushes, in and out of shadows. They chase each other’s laughter — they’re as tight as puzzle…
It's Still Life 