Category Archives: Miz Q Prompts

suspended moment

(a leaky bit of moonlight)   under a dark-haired driven threadbare quilted sky, driven bursts of clawing breath and the muted cry of unglazed small -boned crows dreaming murder, death – muffled blooms and fretful sleep.   .. Cool visual … Continue reading

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Travels with Haircuts

.. She trims the tresses of the masses, shears near ears and hears the stories in all their long (and short) glory. Shaves miles, time. Runs with scissors.   .. Prompted by Miz Q. 

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Gatherings

… We shirr ourselves together from invisible strings, clustering in flocks and crowds like birds, mustering our faith. Colorful chairs unfolding, holding our memories. Our laughter, like bright awnings from the street. We swear by flowers, mosaics, the smell of … Continue reading

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After All Those Evers

  .. She sleeps , and her spun-gold tresses spindle down these cobbled castle walls. The feeling of gossamer against her skin, and a gentle mourning for fragile footwear. A half -bitten apple. A fading rose. A watchtower, the call … Continue reading

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