The hand that shakes

A butterfly cinquain that doesn’t quite fit the remit for Colleen’s challenge as I have only used a synonym for one of the words.


The hand

that shakes the trees

is the wind’s, the voice that

calls in the night and stirs your dreams.


to its wild song woven with threads

of moon silver and the

gentle questions

of owls.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

11 thoughts on “The hand that shakes”

    1. They are rather a staple round here. I love having them around the house (outside) even if they are dirty buggers.
      btw I had a notification from you about the NZ volcano but when I went back to comment on it I couldn’t find it. Where did it go? Can’t even find the right blog!

      1. My late mother loved owls, though she almost certainly never saw one in the wild. When Christmas or a birthday came along she was easy to please: buy her something – anything – depicting an owl!
        Regarding the volcano post, don’t know what could have happened; you’re still listed amongst my followers. Here’s a link to the post: I posted about the Ulva Island Bird Sanctuary the following day, and will hopefully publish on a Maori creation myth later today. Do let me know if there appears to be a problem with either of these. Best wishes!

      2. Thanks for the link, and I’ll look out for the next post. With a bit of luck the mystery of the disappearing site will be elucidated 🙂
        Funny how some people are drawn to owls and at the same time there’s a who mythology based on how they bring misfortune. Propagated by gamekeepers obviously…

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