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2502: MicroDosing 70µg
One Heron It came from the river’s grey throat,one syllable of stillnesswritten against moving sky. On the neighbour’s ridge,it folds its long prayersinto the shape of patience.Legs like reeds.Neck like questions.Waiting for the world to offer somethingworthy of its hunger. But know:the soul does not arrive.It alights.And stays only as long asthe heart can bear…
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2502: dVerse Hunger
Hunger for the Quiet of Stars Not for bread. Not for knowing.This hunger has no mouth. It pulls toward the hourwhen clocks forget purpose,when the sky’s deep bruiseoffers its cold, patient pulse. To fold inward like a held breath.To be,the star no one names. Written for DVerse Poets Quadrille “hunger” Image from Nasa: Cat Eye Nebula.…
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2402: Brigid’s Diary – A Six
Part 3, Lyon, December 1834 Cathédrale Saint-Jean-Baptiste de Lyon The Diligence carriage delivered us to Lyon in pieces, every rut a verdict, every mile a lesson in endurance. But we had arrived, met with December’s Festival of Lights, the Rhône’s river-stink, and brightness laid over hunger like Lyon’s silk over a bruise. Felreil and I…
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2302: Tessaly
A Cat Named Thessaly She came because she chose to.A small black defiance of gravity,fur electric with purpose,already naming herself into their hearts. They say grief is a flickering.A light that won’t decide,the house breathing differentlyin the spaces she used to fill. He held her at the end.Let that land.He held her while the asthmatook…
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2302: The Liturgy of Light
Part 3, Liturgy for the Light That Was Not Ours(One border that’s only another) I. The Carriage as CrucibleThe wheels sang agony in vowels.Every jolt a verdict, every rut a reckoning.We counted time by froth at the horses’ mouths,in the shudder of their ribs.Safety was Lyon, we whispered to ourselves,the lie turning prayer by repetition.…
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Vivaldi’s Winter — L’Inverno (1st Movement) #4
4 Vivaldi’s Winter — L’Inverno (1st Movement) Prologue for the Deaf Listener: This project (multi-part) is written with the deaf reader in mind. It translates orchestral movement into embodied language. These words are the sound of cold becoming a lash. Bring on the wind with teeth of glass, biting bare branches into prayers of splinter.…
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The Old Woman With No Cat
The Cat Seeks a New Country(Or: A Feline Defector’s Lament) The cat sits before the telly,tail wrapped tight with disappointment,as Team GB slides — mostly sideways —down a slope that looks suspiciously likeold woman’s garden after a bad storm. “This,” he hisses,“is embarrassing.We don’t have snow.We have damp.Glorified drizzle.You can’t ski on damp.You can’t luge…
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2102: SenHai #40
SenryuI sink past the noisedown where even my worrieslose their sharp edges Haikulight through moving bluestones cradle the silent floortime drifts without sound Written for Saturday SenHai #40 . Imagery and poems/prose ©Misky 2006-2026.
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2102: Journal of Thoughts
Gardening Tips for Late Winter The shovel was his wife’s. Silver-gilt handle, worn smooth by her grip. He’d kept it after she left, hung it on a hook in the shed where the light never reached. He started small. Digging in the garden’s far corner, where the roses failed and the soil gave easily. He…
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