Tag: moon
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3 March: Reworked Mezzaluna
A Mezza Luna My mezza luna, crescent moon. Up there, pronging errant clouds. Up there, where stars move heaven and earth. Cut and sliced, night’s fabric redressed. Full to blousy. Wax to wane. Sad and joyous, so pale and faint. Up there. Up there. We stare up. Up. ©Misky 2023 Shared with #amwriting on Twitter.
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1 March: dVerse Mezzaluna
A Mezzaluna Haibun Mezzaluna up there, catching errant clouds on your hook. Up there, a chill on souls rising from where western stars move both heaven and earth. For a day, cut and sliced on a bias, night’s fabric and dress, then redressed each month. Full and blousy. Waning and waxing. Sadness and joy, pale…
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Miz Q’s 8 June and Twiglet #230
A Thin Moon Stings This thin moon hangs in a void with itsinaudible hush. Wanders about on a breezy cosmic pulley. Rises up clearand as bright as blackbird’s song. Thin moon stings the sky, pale and veiled,sings over our muted voice. Takes our secrets to the grave. Old moon free ofmy worry. On a rope…
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dVerse: New Beginnings
It’s Pleasant Enough You and I fell into this notion of newness, me tucked into your fluid surface of thought, floating away easy as water-logged idleness, and you’re a reflection in the eyes of stars, I say, and I’m a silhouette, or a ripple in the bathtub. It’s all very new, new as your touch;…
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dVerse Quadrille #21
Between the Days Somewhere, between harvests and rain storms, and lingering wooden crates with mythic mounds of apples, (seems only a week ago) the moon raised itself, as if to order our world to rights. It was a ripe spoon-fed ball, and it took our breath away. for dVerse: Quadrille 21 with 44…
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dVerse Haibun #25
To a Moon Trellis Did you see the moon race across the sky? Like a witch rising from the roots of stars, and the breeze through November leaves, teasing those percussioned bones. That moon, dressed in night, black and white, and hung oblong in a twine of pallored skin. On strings, it seemed, played by puppet…
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For dVerse: Haibun #20
An Absolute Night Up here, the moon watches, a silent astronomer gazing at us through stellar crowds. Fascinated, faintly dazzled by our unaccustomed ways, our wilds that leave its thoughts vacant as an open sea. Speechless. Barren. Spent. And that moon, searches the absolute night through sable stares of its pious eye, deep into our…
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Personifying the Moon for dVerse
To Wax Crescent I. Tonight, the moon is a slim wisp of herself, her knees tucked, and she waits. II. we throw stones, we’re safe, live in a brick house. and that old moon, it just glares down on us. for dVerse: Personifying the Moon
It's Still Life 