Avian Buffet ~ haiku sequence ~ quadrille

Avian Buffet

fresh bounty
for tufted titmouse
squirrels watch

pecks sunflower seed
on white branch

in a flash of red
on the wing

hungry birds
where no snow gathers
in snowfall


This haiku sequence using a 3-5-3 form is my response to Quadrille #164: Winging It, the prompt from De Jackson (whimsigizmo) at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, which is to use a form of the word wing in a 44-word poem (excluding title), with no required meter or rhyme.

Murmuring of Ancestors


Murmuring of Ancestors

Never skin-deep, the sense of loss,
like salt in a wound, the edge
of a crevice in the heart that holds
a loved one like a well of grief.

And though it wants their return,
the heart’s bruises will fade
as it takes solace, knowing
their weight has been lifted

by the murmuring of ancestors
who greet them in the Elysian Fields,
a welcome sight even in the depths
of your own loss.

This is my response to Wordle #252 at The Sunday Whirl.

grief – field – skin – depths – edge – salt – murmuring
bruises – ancestors – lifted – crevice – wants

Shared with OpenLinkNight LIVE at dVerse ~ Poets Pub.

The Color of Night

The Color of Night

Who is to say what is
the color of night?
The moon will rise,
a hidden face revealing
nothing, yet all we need
to know is still before us.

Given time, it will return
what is cast upon it,
whether brilliance or shadow.
Make of that what you will,
but whatever the light,
find comfort in its presence.

This is my response to A Razzie or Two, the prompt from Lillian at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, which is to use a movie title from a list of movies that have “won” a Golden Raspberry Award (Razzie) for the worst movie of the year. I have chosen Color of Night (1994).

~ the full moon (Beaver Moon) at 10:09pm, 07 Nov 2022
~ full lunar eclipse (Beaver Blood Moon) at 5:03am, 08 Nov 2022
~ click on each for larger view in new tab ~

A Scattering of Poems ~ prosery

A Scattering of Poems

In the street of the sky, night walks, scattering poems. In the streets below, poets follow, gathering inspiration in hopes of doing justice to that which cannot be equaled. They speak of a distant darkness filled with a light that seems just out of reach, one that appears as a mist yet offers sparkling clarity. Each might write about the vast expanse that seems to wrap around her, or about the countless points of surrounding light, of which he is one.

Those who read, who listen, will understand and recognize the beauty that can bring such inspiration. They will join the poets, become poets, themselves. The streets will be filled with those who walk the night. Their numbers will be such that they stretch halfway around the globe, and night will see the reward that the people have reaped from its scattering of poems.

 This is my response to Prosery: Tulips & Chimneys, the prompt from Linda Lee Lyberg at dVerse ~ Poets Pub, where the challenge is to write a prosery, flash fiction or creative nonfiction, with a 144-word limit (here, exactly 144 words). Included in the bit of prose is to be a complete line from a poem. For this prompt, the line is from Tulips & Chimneys, by E. E. Cummings – the last line of IX Impressions: “in the street of the sky night walks scattering poems

The image is a crop of a larger image from Astronomy Picture of the Day
“Two Comets in Southern Skies” – Copyright: Jose J. Chambo (Cometografia)

orange leaves ~ haiku & kimo

orange leaves
fall on bluff top trail
river view

maple leaves of brilliant orange and yellow
reflect the afternoon sun
in a final farewell

Haiku, a Japanese form, have three lines with a syllable count of 3/5/3, 5/7/5, or short/long/short. A kigo, or seasonal reference, is integral, and there is often a kireji, or “cutting word” at the end of the first or second line to indicate two thoughts half-independent of each other.

There are distinct differences in kimo, an Israeli variant of haiku originally structured to meet the need for more syllables in Hebrew. Like haiku, there is no rhyme, but kimo have a syllable count of 10/7/6, and deal with a single moment in which there is no movement. While my poem is a moment in nature, kimo have no seasonal or natural requirement. Find discussions here and here.

This is my response to Colleen’s #TankaTuesday Weekly Poetry Challenge No. 296, #Tastetherainbow.

Mom and Apple Pie

Mom and Apple Pie

Growing up, meals were simple,
but always good, and desserts
were never absent. Her specialty?
Pies, with apples from an orchard
or the grocer. It didn’t matter.
Her crust made all the difference.

I’ve never tried to make that crust.
I don’t want to be disappointed.
But her apple cake? That I can make.
Fresh from the oven and still steaming,
I can imagine her serving up a slice
and almost taste her apple pie.

This is my response to Poetics: Dia De los Muertos,
the prompt from Mish at dVerse ~ Poets Pub,
which is to write a poem “to commemorate a loved one you have lost.”

Image source: etsy.com