Fate’s Welcome Luna’s limelight lures, her mute scream’s casting call,a promise, a pact wakes me within a dream, to fallunder sickly green Halloween spell, her price to tell.She says my drowsing pleas to travel Cronos’ Well,to past, where innocents have lost souls to darkveil;to lift its curse with might, restore their sacred braille,have been heard….
Category: dverse
One, Invitation to — Q257
Q257 One, Invitation to pockets call handshands beg glovesgloves mime furfur walls weatherweather interests allall overwhelms usus comforts lonelylonely prefers otherother grows framesframes enclose artart lubricates soulsoul marries heartheart shelters lovelove invites us toO ………..N………….E De (aka whimzygizmo)is today’s host for dVerse’ Quadrille Monday. De wants us to write a 44-word poem using the word…
September 30: National Day of Remembrance for U.S. Indian Boarding Schools
American Indian Boarding School in the 1800’s BoardersA string of stolen children, scared, confused, snake, capped with flying penguins.Led to stools, stripped, dusted,and shaved, paving the way:institutional erasure.Sacked, sad, desked, rapped,slapped — and worse.So much worse. Unwilling orphans cry for parents.Unheard pleas echo lifetimes. From the Law Librarians of Congress website: In 2021, Canada passed…
Vision Quest (haibun)
Vision Quest Vision is a gift of our genes. As we grow older and spend increasing hours staring into screens, our sight takes pummeling strain. Screen adjustments may be made in font size, background contrast, etc. to accommodate them; yet as our eyes shift from pixelated virtual realm to real world, things continue to be…
OLN 416
The kids and I visited Mammoth Cave,in Kentucky, when they were 10 & 12.There weren’t any mammoths.There were, however, in the rock beast’s belly,cots set up, still there since Dr. Croghanbrought TB patients to cure in 1842. Bjorn is today’s host of dVerse’ OpenLinkNight.
The Write Stuff
The Write Stuff Granddaughter writes her nameon library craft box of crayons.It leads to memory-drawn convobetween her mother and I,sharing how our journeys began. Mine that of plastic pen, metal nib,and well of ink, scratches betweenlines of news-stock, bland paper. She, with ball-point on smoothwhite, had trouble with cursivecapitals “G” and “F.” Letters became words;…
Breathe Deep
Breathe Deep One becomes many,building, pausing;alone again, praying,falling, melancholy,subdued, sustained. Incremental lightconversations of whathope might look like. Warmth spreads, grows,turning eyes skyward.There! Daybreak! Tears stream each cheek,air perfumedwith roses and birdsong.Breathe deep. Kim is today’s host for dVerse’ Poetics Tuesday. Kim says:Now listen to ‘Adagio for Strings’ conducted by Gustavo Dudamel and played by the…
