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The Old Woman With No Cat
A Cupful of Moon The old woman with no catdigs where the crow dropped her house key,a hole just moonbeam-wide,neatly spooned between two failuresof courgettes. Her spade hits porcelain.Not bone.Not root.A teacup …a drowned saint,half-sunk in the drought-starved clay,glazed in sorrow and stained by Earl Grey. The crack in its sidesings in a language of…
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AprPAD — Day 01
1 Day: Rapeseed Blooming in an Open Field an arrow of sunor that yellowcareless as fire in dry grass its strength buriedin twisted roots blossoms pelting the skyand not asking each seed a throatbreaking open the field risingnot holybut louder than prayer Written for Writers’ Digest Poem-a-Day Challenge for April 2026. Prompt word: Seed
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0404: Journal of SenHai
Persistence Senryu:we rush through our days the stream takes its time insteadand still gets further Haiku:narrow canyon wallswater threads through ancient stone time learns how to flow Written for SenHai Saturday #46 ©Misky 2006-2026. Image from Unsplash.
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Ten Things of Thankful
I. A walk in the spring sunshine along the coast. Thankful of this view of Seven Sisters and Beachy Head. II. A 10-metre 3-pin charging cable. Thankful the electrician understood what I was saying; you can’t draw 30-amp off a spur. III. Thankful that the clocks are finally on British Summertime: spring ahead one hour.…
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0304: ST(R)AY – The Book
ST(R)AY This book is a meeting place. Black-and-white film photographs by Nick Maroudis sit alongside poems by Marilyn Braendeholm, each page holding a small moment of attention. A dog crossing a road. A pause in passing light. A life moving quietly alongside our own. These are not stories of rescue or loss. They are simply…
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0204: Journal of Thoughts
My sister had three of them behind glass. They’d swim, stunned by their own beauty and grandeur, skimming through long blades of green. First they ate all the smaller fish in the tank, and then the three of them set upon each other until only one remained. And there he swam alone for nearly 15-years.…
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0104: Journal of Thoughts
The Leak The calendar hangs:boxes, numbers,the fiction of order. Minutes leak. Not quickly.That would be kindness. Through sleep.Through distraction.Through the body’s small betrayals. An afternoon lost in a chair.A word gone missing at the stair.Morning gonebefore the kettle cools. February: a sieve.March: a colander. To ageis to learnyou do not spend your hours.You lose them.…
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3103: dVerse Haibun
March is a mad hare in a fit. Wild, bounding, all elbows and interruptions. He sits in the sun until he remembers he prefers frost, then leaps up and overturns the day. “Change places!” he cries, though no one is sitting where they were to begin with. He pours tea into the wind, scolds the…
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March: 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
It's Still Life 