transition father’s wishing well restscrumbling in the yardhome to small brown ants and large haunting regretspushed over, rolled asidereplaced by lighthouse joy sleeping koi awakenin warming waterconfetti swirls, hungry anticipationfor gifts from tiny handsdelighted to give mystery turtles and frogs clump onlogs and algae bedsafter long sleeps; how they rest in quietudeamidst hue-song riot is…
Category: dverse
dVerse — Poetics — Bright Elusive
Guillermo del Toro’s Pinocchio Bright Elusive A lifeline, a toy, a reasonto come,drawn from the ether,into being. Clean-slated but not really;formed by twocracked vessels with smokeof 10,000 things trailing. All things are bornwith a soul,but soul’s are finickyand chug off if doused with pesticide. For what did Pinocchio yearn but for his soul?Clambered down fromhis…
dVerse — Prosery — Tomorrow’s Sacred Space
Something told the wild geese It was time to fly. — by Rachel Lyman Field, from Something told the wild geese Tomorrow’s Sacred Space For a thousand generations we’ve welcomed their return to the spring-fed lake when their wintering grounds told them to fly home. Their petroglyphs skein the cave walls. Migratory residents, they’re also…
dVerse — MTB — ready (bop poem)
ready five by eight once enough twenty cent journals held ballpoint ink, keyboards, glue, mag clippings, thoughtbytes media to remember, process, now shrink to insufficiency I found a box and put a room inside to obsess posters, billboards iron skyward, field-installed monuments, to hail impossible survival beyond life’s hell-all relentless, warping onslaught by exploiters and…
dVerse — Q200 — ablaze
ablaze Spring in full sway, when dandelions peep low to call in drowsy pollinators. Twenty nine blazes, scatter-shots grass bright with yellow on green flag. Unfurled spirit, nature’s patriot foundation, under scant pear blossoms. Pale demure ruffles tiptoe branches where robin, dove, and chickadee pause. Michelle (aka Mish) is today’s host of dVerse’ Quadrille Monday….
dVerse OLN 360 The Botany of Desire
succulents and fernseach pretty in their own wayoffering themselves While out running errands I decided to take a run to the now-open-for-the-season mega greenhouse store. It would take hours to photograph every area of the place, so I focused on a few kinds of plant while searching for a plant tray, a pothos, and…
dVerse — Poetics — Mr. Whiskers
“Untitled” by Louis Wain Born in a barn, to a rangy queen on her tenth litter and a tom with fuzzy dice balls and only one ear, he clawed and scrambled for the teat as if his life depended on it – and it did – six litter-mates didn’t. Farmer Jones’ son, a kindly sort,…
