Tag: dVerse Poets
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31 August: A dVerse Ought Not Haibun
Ought Not I’m not sure about the year, but it was the summer that Mum painted the porch stairs emerald green. Greener than jade. And shiny enamel. I thought it looked like Amazon tree frog green. And she hung eight baskets of trailing fuchsias and forget-me-nots from the eaves off the back porch, as if,…
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26 May: dVerse Quatern
And Once Again It’s … spring-kissed hills of old perfume, mysongster heart’s light as sky’s own blue.Long whisper tunes through cedar trees,Midas torches our sunset dreams. We stood, painting the vales ofspring-kissed hills, of old perfume, myred rose, sweet rose, my deep red loveof vivid green through shining rain. See the horseman without a horse,the…
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23 May: dVerse Haibun Memories
Nap Time My head is sideways on the desk. My arm for a pillow. Eyes closed, says the teacher. I hear the school clock. Narrow white noise without a past tense. I watch the minute hand. It hangs still as the day. 1st grade. It’s nap time. The details are gone, but I remember without…
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5 May: A dVerse Quadrille
The Garden The garden is mapped,and nature is undone. Supplanted.Keep this. Hmm. Not that. Tug at the weeds, shiftthe soil and sift the silt. Winter’s rooted dark fadesinto tulips and bleeding hearts, as a skylark’s delicate songunwraps a silken colour seed. A quadrille poem (44 words sans title) for dVerse Poets. AI Digital Artwork is created using…
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26.1.22: A Wednesday Haibun
“We’re doubtless as old as our mothers, thousands of generations waiting for the sunlight.”– Sunlight, Jim Harrison I’m as old as my mother, when she was my age. She was long-lived, into her 90s. Her mother was long-lived, too. Her grandmother lived longer than them both. Mum’s mother was married to a dentist. Her grandmother…
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12 October: dVerse Prosery
This Summer Boy This summer boy of tide pools and kelp forests. He plays in waves while grains of an hourglass slip from under his feet. Up to his waist. He’s afraid to move. Afraid to call for help. He hears a chaos of language from the shore. His legs tangle in the long reach…
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dVerse Derivatives
It’s That Shade of Brown Again.It’s a rustling of memory. You bring me to this doorway,day after day, into our minutes. My dad, into dreams and dusk, and precise piles of crispy leaves.Our cat, a goat, and fertile land. A forest’s umbrage. Morning frost.Chocolate melting on my fingers. It’s a colour that can …
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dVerse Quadrille #132
Roll On After the icicles thawed,and damp left the basementthrough open windows,I remember wondering what happened to winter,I’ve no clear memories of it. Sometimes I’m like a stream,not knowing where I’ve come fromor where I’m going. I justroll on. Quadrille for dVerse Poets, including the word ‘stream‘. Photo by Fabrice Villard on Unsplash . Shared with #APoemADay on Twitter …
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11 May 2021: dVerse Prosery
Prose: A Peripheral View The clouds open like windows for her – red billowing fields of wild poppies, dabs of Monet white-washed daisies. Spring rain allows nothing to stay asleep for long. Cornflowers will come along next in this wide green world. The air flutters with colour, and her thoughts are an utter abandonment of…
It's Still Life 