Granddaughter’s ringlets honeyed pool gleams on the floor — just before winter? Fall Witch understands toddler’s strength is in her hair — and in gramma’s care. She, oblivious, runs safe in autumn’s golden sun’s untouchable grace. top image link senryu form (series) kigo = fall witch Colleen Chesebro is the host of Tanka Tuesday. Colleen…
Category: poetry
Writober Day 3 — Bats
bats squeaky night gliders juicy moths taste good good graveyard shift workers clear pesty cloud skies skies speckled against moon dark silhouettes dance dance midnight’s sweet music in banquet of life lanturne form couldn’t find a “safe” source for the image so not including any link Maria Berg is the host for Writober.
POPO2023 Day 3
Laundry piled too tall a load is on final spin. Too humid for the dryer so old-fashioned me hangs them (inside) on the clothesline. artwork by Georges Seurat, “The Gardener“
Writober Day 2 — Rituals
Performing rituals: be mindful of order; ingredients correct; beware any typos; for the perfect effect. Performing rituals with well-reasoned intent; you dare not leave to chance matters of love and death — and all else to enhance. Performing rituals in silver of moonlight, with runes’ rocky rubble; ghost mist as my witness to lasso my…
dVerse — Q185 — dream #17
Brushing cobwebs from inkstone as Chang’e urges, dark pools brimming, I transcribe. Dearest Hou Yi, With only dust for company I beg return me your apple cheeks and fearless aim. Please forgive me, Yours only. Sealed with blood and wax, dragon wings toward Tian. top image (woodcut print) “Chang’e Flees to the Moon,” by Tsukioka…
POPO2023 Day 2
Dotty can’t understand why she can’t sleep on my lap. The blanket is too hot to drape over my legs and her claws are too sharp. artwork by Henri Matisse, “Red Interior. Still Life on a Blue Table“
Maria Berg’s 30 days of Halloween Day 1: Spooky
Autumn equinoxes’ presence known and day creeps away far too soon. When daylight slips to parts unknown and we look to the light of the moon To comfort when the chill mist swirls; when small warm-blood things shiver in hope they’ll not be found by hunters that glide so silently through the ink. Ears attune…
Tao Talk 