That summer when sweet dew was on the rose she danced and played along the merry lane while mother hummed a tune and hung the clothes. Yet ill winds soon would spin the weather vane. A stranger from Bigtown, in fancy clothes, arrived and said he’d traveled on the train. Slack-jawed and bug-eyed, looked just…
Category: poetry
dVerse — Monday Quadrille 154 — however it’s spelled
Does exuberant green panorama speak Spring or Summer? Mid-June paper flutters in ninety-degree heat. Rhubarb roars. Dandelions smoke cigarettes, bees hmmm carnal at rainbows. Lilacs’ brown sugar memory; mitigated with gingered peonies. Life cycles’ motors rumble. Six letters may spell what they wish. This poem is also a nod to Sanaa’s included quote (thanks Sanaa!)…
dVerse — Prosery Monday — Lost? plus update: youtube of Matthew McC… speech
These are the things they don’t tell us.– Girl Du Jour, from Notes on Uvalde I’m floating up, out of the operating room ceiling, through walls, the roof of the hospital, and into the night sky. Drowsy in the black expanse, I feel warm in a giant palm that closes around my nakedness. My hospital…
Wounds I Healed: Release Date Announced! — Experiments in Fiction
This is the anthology I have 2 poems in. So excited for the release of the book and an opportunity to read the other poets who have contributed to this important work. After much hard work, I am excited to announce that the hotly-anticipated poetry anthology Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women is…
Synchronizing with nature
Female Bluebird on Fence, by Cheryl Thompson Do you know how way leads on to way? The dream class I’ve been participating in has led to an invitation to take part in a group that gathers once a month on/near the full moon and follows the wisdom found in Jamie Sams’ book, “The 13 Original…
Flora and Fauna Friday plus June tanka
And now, for the grand finale, a video of a Great Blue Heron hunting that I took yesterday. I should have kept the conversation my mom and I were having during the filming, but I added a soundtrack to it instead. Long legs step tall grass as neck keeps time with the breeze, while happy…
dVerse — Poetics — Our Stories
(There are) many stories which are not on paper, they are written in the bodies and minds of women. — Amrita Pritam I hear her each morning before she rounds the corner heading to the well. It is a shuffling, almost furtive, where her worn sandals scuffle hard-packed dust. It would have been kinder to…
