Everything

(Photo: Inbar Asif)

 

It was everything

To her

To tend the naked vines that sprawled

Across her soul,

And through the long cold

Winter

To let the sun pour 

Over

The sprawling expanse of not-yet-sweetness,

As she hoped

And prayed

For fruit

Ripening amidst abundance

Into wine.

 

 

For the dVerse poetry quadrille challenge: Wine

Almost Grown Up

(Photo: Mabel Amber on Pixabay)

 

There was a moment between

Childhood and

Being almost

Grown up,

Where she knew that she would

Very soon be

Quite possibly

All tied up.

With chores and duties

Work and house,

Strung like eyes

On knitting needles,

In a knot of adult

Life.

 

 

 

 

For the dVerse quadrille challenge: Knot

The Addition

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(Photo: Simona Roubkova on Unsplash)

 

“What are you going to do with this thing?”

Leah shrugged, and watched as Marty circled the addition to their household, arms behind his back in what she thought of as his ‘Wannabee Inspector General.’

“It is useless,” he muttered.

“It is cute,” she said, and chuckled at the horror on his face. “In its own way, at least.”

For to be fair, the poor creature would win no beauty contests. Patchy hair, droopy eyelid, bloated abdomen. But there was a trusting glint in the blue eye, and a gentleness that sought her heart and hooked it.

“You’d do it mercy to put it down.”

“I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility that existence has its own reason for being,” Leah challenged. “If we can be of help, why not even try?”

She reached down to pet the pup. “Her name’s Pat.”

 

 

Prosery prompt: “I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility that existence has its own reason for being.” — Wisława Szymborska, “Possibilities”

For the dVerse prosery challenge

 

In A Heartbeat

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(Photo: Karen Forte)

 

The fog cocooned her.

A swift blanket

Of numbing

Penetrative chill

The sun could not

Expel.

And yet

A butterfly’s wing

Flicked against

Her cheek.

A kiss

Of warmer

Days.

A promise for

What what could,

In a heartbeat,

Thaw frost

Into bedazzled

Hope.

 

 

For the dVerse quadrille challenge: swift

For Carol. On your birthday in heaven. Butterfly kisses galore.

 

 

Long To Fade

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(Image: Alicja_ from Pixabay)

 

“Where have you been?!” her mother’s elbows speared the air like wings on a falcon, keen to dive.

The lass lowered her head and hiked her apron in an offering. The contents would not account for hours wiled away from chores, but they might reduce the heat of what promised to be imminent suffering.

“I went out to the hazel wood, because a fire was in my head,” the child demurred, unpinning one side of the apron to reveal a mound of early hazelnuts, “in eagerness to bring your favorite, Mother. Seeing how the morrow is your saint’s day.”

The woman’s scowl budged none. “A flatterer as well as an idle hand. I know a hasty crop when I see it. Now, as you are so eager, fetch a switch of hazel and I’ll give your hide a fire that will not soon fade.”

 

 

For the dVerse prosery challenge

Poetry prompt from W. B. Yeats

 

 

One For The Way

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(Photo: Dustin Humes on Unsplash)

 

She knew when she opened the window

That day

That it would be

One

For the way.

The frost on the petals

The chill in the air

The way that stray branches

Scraped against the stair.

The breath of new winter

Kissing her hair.

 

 

 

For the dVerse quadrille challenge: Way

 

 

Winter’s Tread

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(Photo: Stéphane Juban on Unsplash)

 

When the cold gripped hard

And pulled life from the sinews

Of the earth,

And when the wind screamed wild

Among the emptied branches

Overhead,

She’d seek the warm embrace

Of the inglenook’s fireplace

And write a book

Of summer’s heat

Inside her

Head.

 

 

For the dVerse quadrille poetry challenge: Inglenook

 

The Present

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(Photo: Adam Nieścioruk on Unsplash)

 

She was shaking when I entered the room. Hands wringing, lips trembling, her eyes a shade of numb I had rarely seen.

Mary had called me. She had come to check on her and bring a midday repast. Mother being too proud to ask for help, even though her legs no longer held her sturdily or long enough to cook herself a decent meal.

Appearance and stoicism were Mother’s barometers of standing.

Socially and otherwise.

Not that you’d know it from her mascaraed cheeks.

She pointed to the antique book I had gifted her the previous evening. 

I understand, therefore I’ll live,” was scribbled in the cover. “R.B. 1941

Mother pressed a notepad on me. Scribbled on it were the same words. Same letters. An older hand.

“I forgot,” she whispered, caressing her initials. “But reading what I have just written, I now believe.”

 

 

Prompt quote: “Reading what I have just written, I now believe.” (Afterward by Louise Gluck)

For the dVerse prosery challenge

 

Compliance

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(Photo: Isaac Holmgren on Unsplash)

 

When all was said and done,

There was no question

Of whether or when

Or why,

She would be expected

To abide by all

The rules they had

Intended to

Apply.

The law was set.

The outcome clear.

She was to follow

And adhere.

 

 

For the dVerse quadrille poetry challenge: abide

 

Whistling Into Wind

 

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(Photo: Janko Ferlič on Unsplash)

 

She had vowed to not come back. Ever. Not to live. For sure not that.

It did not mean she would not try to visit. Or to glimpse. To set out in a morning’s determination only to curl around via rambling roads and pause at every bridge and barn until it got too late to see a thing or she lost nerve and drove home steeped in a tired mix of relief and disappointment.

“I’ll come with you,” Elmira finally said. She placed a warm hand on the base of Anastasia’s neck, hoping to soften the tension it held whenever memories threatened flood.

Anastasia shook her head. “There is nothing behind the wall except a space where the wind whistles.”

“And yet,” Elmira kneaded gently, “the Orphanage’s whistles still tell stories. Perhaps the likes of which your soul insists ought to be heard.”

 

 

Prosery prompt: “there is nothing behind the wall except a space where the wind whistles” from “Drawings By Children” by Lisel Mueller

For the dVerse prosery challenge