Photo: Andrew Buchanan on Unsplash
“It is just a crack,” she said,
“A splinter off of perfection.”
‘Twas more than that, she understood,
Knowing what effort it exacted of her
To keep her direction,
To balance scales just so
They did not tip life
And hope
Into utter disconnection.
For the dVerse quadrille challenge: Crack
Photo: Annie Spratt on Unsplash
I’ll be the quiver
For the arrows
You don’t yet know
How to hold.
I’ll guard the darts
The barbs
The jagged
Points,
Safe within the
Burnished leather
Of my years,
Till you grow enough
To be the quiver
For your own
Sharpened spears.
For the dVerse quadrille challenge: quiver
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
I am not yet
Extinct
From here.
The winds that came
Once more
To blow me into an
Oblivion of preemptive
Grief,
Are yet to fray
The threads that
Hold me
In the hope
That this time, too
Will turn
A test, not
Doom.
For the dVerse Quadrille Poetry Challenge: Extinction
Photo: Alexander Dummer via Unsplash
I nicked Nick
With a stick
After he picked
And tried to hit
Me
With a brick.
He should not try
Such a sick
Kind of shtick
If he doesn’t like
Being tricked
And summarily pricked
By a royally ticked
But quick thinking
Chick.
For the dVerse Quadrille challenge: Nick
Photo: D. Freedman
In between the wish for more
And need for less
She paused to let the breeze pass
Through
And transform her
From the rushing steps that never seem to
Gain foothold
On life,
To the tranquility of what is
Yet
to be left
Behind.
For the dVerse poetry quadrille challenge: tranquility
Photo: Smadar Halperin-Epshtein
There is no
Place,
No space,
Without
Voice.
If the trees of our soul
Fall
With no ears near
To hear,
Silence deafens
Roar into
Lore.
Be the voice
Of your song.
Let the air move
Through lungs
Via cords
To record:
You’re aboard.
For the dVerse Quadrille challenge: Voice
Photo: Mehrdad Haghighi via Unsplash
Spattered,
Scattered,
Splattered
Like galaxies
Of reversed light
Upon the expanse
Of skin.
Concentrated pigment
On the canvas
Of the body,
They speckle
Like stars
Reflected
In the negative of film.
Beloved,
They dance upon
The nose.
A freckled
Symphony
Of brown and gold.
For the dVerse Quadrille Challenge
Photo: A.Katz
As the sun’s last light
Paints mountains
Red,
May worry find a safe
For stashing
Dread:
That morning might
Not come
Again,
That homes might turn
From hope
To strain,
And children’s cries
Will sound
In pens,
As they wake
More memories
Of pain.
For dVerse Quadrille Challenge: Sun
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
If a hollowing sorrow
Catches your breath in a
Hold
And then folds
Like a snail
Into what can’t
Be told …
Let the richness
Of you
Spread like gold
From a long ago story
Foretold,
Like the waves’
Gentle touch
On a morning’s
Threshold.
For dVerse’s quadrille challenge: Rich
Photo: Pixabay on Pexels.com
When the world hollows out
And the sun cooks up blame,
Don’t forget there were times
When we’d known
The con-game,
And yet chose –
To our shame –
Truth’s very core to
Maim.
We allowed
A shell-game
To carve the Earth
Up
In flames.
For dVerse Quadrille Monday: Up
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