Major Season (Sekki): Deep Winter Deep Winter is where there is no sign of the beauty of autumn or spring. The memory of autumn has faded and the hope of spring feels too far away. Micro-Season (Kō): Snow Crunches on the Sidewalk This is the time of year when temperatures dip so low that the…
Category: dverse
dVerse — Form for All — A trip to the library
I raise my mask and leave the car,the slot not far.I drop them in;one circuit ends. I spy upon the reserve rackmy labeled stack.I scan them in;circuit begins. Outside mask drops; I breathe in frost,first bag car-tossed;next in I heaveinto; then leave. This “minute” has been repeated for many circuits since retirement in 2018….
dVerse — Poetics — Mariana
There is a human wildness held beneath the skin. – by Jim Harrison, from Songs of Unreason When Sol burns white sea turns deep green; where sand warms, my bones do not shiver. A pale palm across lids shadow transports, bass deep and high to a realm of relic seasoned whiff; where incorporate clouds…
dVerse — Quadrille 144 — Snow Birds
Matters not hue nor contour, when winter’s crystal flies and frosts the trees birds’ feathers shiver large to puff into warm coat fluff. Arranged in tacit, ordered array, clawed stoics cling to chill branches until called to trapeze feeders atwist in arctic breeze. Merril is today’s host for dVerse’ Quadrille Monday. Merril says: Use shiver–or…
dVerse — She Lobo
image link I see the hum as a wolf, always present, always supportive, always ready to run. She comes to me, she of rough shaggy coat. Solid shoulders, paws anchored to the ground. She sits and watches me with eyes like bonfires. Her head tilts with my expressions and when she hears my voice as…
dVerse — Poetics — Ode to a Thesaurus
The trail drones on as bee until it stings me to a quiver Hermetic trills oneiric bells clamour-call to muse liver Emergent words select themselves, infuse with a honeyed click Surprised each time at ideal choice. I cackle until I hic A clever muse she daisy-chains the ponies in formation Umbrella chants while ponies dance…
dVerse — Prosery — Honey Sun Honeymoon
And bring no book, for this one day We’ll give to idleness. –from William Wordsworth’s, ‘Lines Written at a small distance from my House… Day 2: A drapery whoosh woke me from a flying dream. Bathed in burnished gold light, I stretched, cat-like. Inhaling deeply, my nostrils quivered with the aroma of fresh coffee from…
Tao-Talk 