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2 Sept: dVerse Haibun
The Holding Breath To the 204 men and boys of the 1862 Hartley Colliery disaster — their breath drifts still, coal-dust caught in morning’s blacklung frost. They crawled into the narrow seams where lanterns barely held back the dark, where the air strangled itself thin. We remember the steel-to-stone rhythm of their pickaxes, the hunger-click…
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2 Sept: A Six Sentence Story
18 of 27 – Mirebright: A Fragment Unaccounted-For The Weight of Small Things The chipped bowl by her door held coins — not for luck or for God, but for the hollow-cheeked boy who came at dawn, socks sagging, schoolbag a sack of lint and secondhand books, shoelaces knotted like protection spells. Each morning he…
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2 Sept: Mirebright – The Liturgy
18 of 27 Mirebright – The Poem – The Unaccounted-For I. The GlintNot a star —but a false dawn where hope dies,a light that clings to an unrepentant cheeklike a child’s kiss on a rusted blade.You hope anyway.You love despite. Mirebright is whispered even when no one’s listening. II. The Hollow ChestCompassion aches here —not…
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August: Last Photo on the Card
This post is in response to Brian’s monthly challenge Last Photo on the Card. Brian (aka Bushboy) asks for the Last Photos on your phone/camera/SD card. Here is the last shot taken using my iPhone 16Pro Max. Shared on Twitter with @bushboywhotweet
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Cat’s Singing Lessons (An Ode to Avian-Aided Ambition) The robin starts with scales,light as dandelion fluff —“Try trilling deeper,” she chirps.“Like you mean it.Like you own the fence.And the worm beneath it.” The cat responds in C major,with a hint of threat:Mee-YOWL-ooooww… Is that art or a cry for help?The line is thin. The…
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31 Aug: MicroDosing 90µg
Passing Days The days bled together,like watercolour sagging in the rain.She tried to tack them down —a mug’s steam,the slant of three o’clock light —but they wriggled free,slippery as minnows. What lingered was only sensation:a Tuesday’s ghosted-warmth,a Thursday’s pale chill.And the uneasy thoughtthat time was being smuggled forward,hand to hand,like contraband in plain sight —precious,…
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30 Aug: Ten Things of Thankful
This week’s Ten Things is heavy on the subject of food, thereby explaining the archaic word ‘edacious’ below. 1. I am thankful for onomatopœic words that fly off my tongue: FLIBBERTY-GIBBET — a very talkative person; Etymology: an onomatopœic. Used by John Heywood in 1546, from All Proverbs in the English Language. However — this week’s word…
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29 Aug: II. The Painter
II. The Painter (A Six Sentence Poem) Into the paint —the brush, blind-eyed.His shoulder tenses:a memoryof a burdennot yet carried. The bristles sweep —a long, aching curve of roadbeneath a skyhe’s never seen. It is longing.It is goodbyeto someonehe has not yet met. He steps back, opens his eyes —there it is: his future, peggedand…
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28 Aug: A Thursday Door
velvet chairswhisper in cornershide a shadow’s breath. the doors don’t speak,nor do porcelain moonsbetween two lovers’ hush. Bushboy (Brian Dodd) shares photos of doors, but not just any doors. Spectacular doors from his journeys. Dan’s Thursday Doors opened the door on this. I love doors of all sorts. I’ve trawled through my photos and found a few…
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27 Aug: Where You From, Then?
Where Are You From Then? Aura — Episode One (A Six Sentence Story) Päiviö Clartz had lived above the Co-op for three winters, long enough for most people to forget he wasn’t from here — except when he spoke, or cooked fish in the mornings, or wore that thick Nordic jumper with snowflake shoulders and…
It's Still Life 