That Touch of Green I poured green on green until yellow filled up brown, and I set my feet on paths down lanes. I crossed tree-lined roads, and kissed baby’s heads, all by way of a bit of luck. And I loved too well, perhaps I did, my thoughts filled with the scent that comes … Continue reading Day 5: Poetry Chain Gang
Thin as a Flash A slit of butter thin as a flash, juicy and wiping and that makes it better, still fry fry to nonstick sticky. Then rest 5 minutes. Found and remixed recipe “Steak sandwich, and Buttery leeks and chicken burger”, by Nigel Slater “eat“, first published by Fourth Estate 2013.
Expelled by Heat This town staggers along like a funeral procession, and the streets empty, except for the simplicity of sun and the nature of heat, do you open windows or not – let breeze in, breeze through, kept, swept out and — there’s a flat call from shoes on the cobbles – a woman … Continue reading Margo’s Image Prompt: A Single Detail
The Jurors A hat rests on the table, belongs to a man with a moist eye and an inflamed nose, and the gentlemen crowd together. So ornamental. Flocks of rings. Buckles. Spittoons and pipes. It’s a familiar rattling, and a whisper circulates and then falls like the ring of a pendant handle bell. The jury … Continue reading Poetry Chain Day 3: Found and Remixed Jurors
The Taste of Breeze soaked like butter golden, so dark this sticky fragrance, passing on a breeze like soothing garlic do not freeze Found and remixed recipe “Courgette with Bacon Gremolata”, by Nigel Slater “eat” page 94-95, first published by Fourth Estate 2013.
Originally posted on Who Is Selma Siri:
Dancing with a Curiosity The day is all alive – like a fair, and the windows have something new to stare at — summoning their gaze inward for a time, their skittling eyes tracking me like white gloves across dustiness. And I am dancing with a curiosity. Dancing,…
The Boy Who Mends He has this humming sort of laugh, like a happy bee chasing the sun, and he sits on a milking stool outside a sun-bleached stone croft. Keeps one eye on the sheep and one eye on his needlework, and he mends socks for a penny and linens for three. It’s a quiet countrified … Continue reading The Boy Who Mends
Witness There’s a policeman at the corner, a crowd gathering around him like a swirl forming. He doesn’t move. He’s an outcrop. A tower standing there with a shifting glance. Condescending. Two noisy boys on bikes dismount. The man from number 11 thinks himself a privilege, an official possessing knowledge; he’s the witness. And the … Continue reading For Margo’s Change Prompt: Briefly Prose
Fairies in the Ivy she called on fairies for their sight. wings to fly, to find a child, lost and longing, rushing to drown in the sun. an anguish roar, lost winds they fought, a sweeping breeze lit a sightless flame — saying.saying.praying.praying candle flicker die on wick grieving light in darkness thick — but … Continue reading Fairies in the Ivy
A Few Quick Thoughts About Rain a straight rain is rare. it usually angles like some great suspicion. pretends to be a woman burdened with a long neck, and then it waddles off to become a broad shallow puddle. and the dictionary states that rain is a noun but I think it’s more like a … Continue reading A Few Quick Thoughts About Rain