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Monthly Archives: March 2018
thou answerest them only with spring – E.E. Cummings .. too soon, these skies will make themselves known as pirate waters: tumultuous, stirred dark and deep. steeped in skeletal clouds and masthead thunder. we’ll wonder how we ever found the sun. … Continue reading
(a shadorma) .. fog me in with sky and silence; cold wet clouds, amber rain. these little cat feet know things. are you listening? . Amaya at dVerse has offered us a form I love, the Shadorma. My … Continue reading
.. (circa 1984), and become something we’re not, or wish we were. Let’s ditch the glasses and the classes and all that harasses us deep. Let’s keep ourselves sane with super -lative breeze, and capes of daisy chains. Masks of … Continue reading
.. Today, we will be reacquainting ourselves with the logarithms of this breeze, the angles of these trees and the squint of sunray-slant, perpendicular in the sky. Parlez vous francais? Me, neither. But the way the lavender is calling and … Continue reading
, and all that’s left is …………..a crash of clouds my broken voice ………………………..a slash of rain. twiglet #67.
The dark creeps deep, steeps my poemed breath in star-skin and silence. Once upon a time, you might have waited here with me, among these falling cherry blossom kites. This one last night. Now, I rise, leaving nothing behind but … Continue reading
She’s doing some aching again, greeting the day with open hands and a moaning heart, starting a song on this sky piano with knuckles lost to greater fights. She’s right at the center of that rising sun, mourning loss … Continue reading
.. There’s a spirit in my sunroom, and he’s got a lot to say. I think he’s rather bothering; I wish he’d go away. He’s a specter wearing spectacles, who thinks he’s rather wise. He’s a wraith with wrath to … Continue reading
. , and the sky is f a l l i n g once more. . Twiglet #66.