dVerse Haibun Monday: Shimo No Koe, Voice of First Frost

Photo: Labeled for reuse

#Heartbroken

I awaken this morning to temperatures of 28 degrees Fahrenheit, open the back door and breathe in the purity of crisp, fresh air. Hoar frost designs sparkle on the deck and the vegetable garden sags—leaves like tears hang from the tomato and cucumber plants, light splashes of color awash on our maple and ash trees. The glory of the cerulean sky sings joy. Reality intervenes.

blood-red leaves appear
fall gently on the pavement
frost-beauty weeping

Today, I’m hosting Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets. The prompt is Shimo No Koe–Voice of First Frost. Please join in. The prompt is open all week.

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shoe markdowns you don’t want to miss–dVerse Poetics

Late, perhaps, for Kim’s prompt at dVerse Poetics: SHOES (or lack thereof). Within a few minutes of each other I read an article about Harvey that mentioned so many fleeing flood waters were without shoes, and then an ad that became the title of this poem.

shoe markdowns you don’t want to miss

she had no money
she had no shoes
the sign in the washed-
out store mocked her
mocked them all
she held her baby closer
huddled on the flatboat
riding flood waters
into an unknown future
more than she could say
for others

Image: Fox News

Late Summer–dVerse Quadrille

Photo: David Slotto
Northern Flicker

Summer begins to fade.
Trees share foliage with earth
Vegetable garden spills its seeds.

When he appears I hold my breath,
taken aback at beauty new to me.
Ruddy-headed, spotted Northern Flicker.

Summer begins to fade
but shares her gifts with us
even now.

Welcome back to the pub, everyone. I hope you all enjoyed your break. Today, for dVerse Quadrille Monday, Grace is asking us to use the word FLICKER in a poem of exactly 44 words, excluding title. I write of the appearance of this woodpecker that I’ve never seen before in our region–a Northern Flicker. He surprised us last summer. I grabbed our bird book and David, the camera, and we got several photos of him. His visit lasted only a few minutes but he had his fill.

For the month of July, Jilly is offering a wonderful prompt on collaborative poetry. At the end of this post, I will give you the basics as she presented them, but be sure to visit her site where she gives an inspirational introduction.

In this post, I have written the first half of a poem. The challenge is for one of you to complete it and post it, following Jilly’s instructions.

This poem is written in tercets, 3-line poetry, without rhyme but using  an iambic beat, regardless of the number of iambs. Looking at the first line of this poem, the beat is da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM da DUM–that is, the heavy accent on the DUM, there being 7 iambs. I’ve numbered the rest of them. If you would like to play with my half to make it all the same, go for it.

7-5-17 Revision to add stanzas contributed by Maureen Sudlow and Jilly, the hostess of this prompt. Maureen’s are in Green and Jilly, in Purple.

7-7-17 Another revision, adding stanza’s by Charley in Brown. Great sift from being to doing.

Photo: David Slotto

 

Who Am I, You Ask

I am the tiny finch who fills the air with song at dawn. (7)
I am the bronze of sun on snow-capped hills. (5)
I am the play of wind upon the leafy ash. (6)

I am the ocean’s waves caressing sand and shells. (6)
I am the youthful fool—reckless, full of joy. (6–the dash as a soft beat)
I am the ache of old ones shuttered in the dark. (6)

I am the crumpled fading leaves
the glint of sun on foam-capped waves
I am the dust of planets born

I am the healing for the ancients breaking down the glass. 
I am the wisdom found in children – secreting the glee. 
I am the torrent deep who shapes the distant shores and sky. 

I am the wicked gale that tears the fertile blooms. 
I am the cresting dawn on valleys warm and lush. 
I am the eagle strong who silences the song.

I sing in many voices dawn and dusk that man ignores.
I bring the beauty forth in nature’s palates pure.
I breathe comfort that cools the heat or melts the snow.

I rock oceans deep, the stormy crash or gentle lull.
I energize the heated youth who sings out praise.
I agitate the longing for a final rest, a rescue home. 

HERE ARE JILLY’S ABBREVIATED INSTRUCTIONS:

The July Challenge is basically this:  Write half of a poem and open it up to fellow Challengers to finish it.  Since we are all fabulous poets, the greater challenge of this will not be the poetry, but the logistics, so I am including the steps.

  1. Write the first half of a poem
  2. Post it on your blog with a link back here to The July Challenge
  3. Include a little something about the form you are using. Is it Free Verse, Sonnet, Quadrille, etc?
  4. If you are using a form, please give a link to a site that explains that form or just give a little refresher.

HERE IS THE LINK TO JILLY’S JULY CHALLENGE: COLLABORATIVE POETRY

 

Jilly’s July Challenge–Collaborative Poetry, Revised

morning prayer–dVerse Quadrille

Photo: Victoria Slotto

morning prayer

Be still and know that I am God. Psalm 46, 10

All is still this morn—
the pond outside my window

mirrors palm trees and mountains
until

egret dives,
sends ripples through this quiet time,

butterfly slashes blue sky
with gold flight,

two small wrens
attack a crow.

Still,
all is calm this gentle morn

This week’s Quadrille at dVerse, hosted by Grace, asks us to write a poem of exactly 44 words, exclusive of the title, using the word STILL.

Vacuum–dVerse Haibun

 

 

 

Vacuum

I am afraid to grieve—afraid that if I open that door a crack those other monsters hidden in the shadows will creep in and invade my peace. Is it because that loss began so long ago, when the brilliance of her mind began to dim, when judgment fled and anger peeked between the clouds? Or has the “business” of dying obscured the underlying pain? And when that’s done (if ever) what awaits? I dread am afraid of grief.

ducklings romp outside
april joy plays in sunshine
hawk swoops in, devours

Kanzen Sakura asks for Haibuns written on the subject of our most honest fears. Visit dVerse Haibun Monday to share.

Photo: Flickr
Labeled for non-commercial reuse

Dream

Photo: Wikipedia
Labeled for non-commercial reuse.

Dream

Last night I dreamt of
feathers and shape-shifting.
Today a wren perches on a naked branch
outside my window.
By afternoon
the tree is in full bloom.

I miss you.

De Jackson is asking for Postcard Poems, that is, poems of 12 lines or less, at dVerse Poetics. Please join us.