Leap in the dark

The dverse quadrille theme word is extinction. A quadrille is a poem of exactly 44 words.


She hurried her child through bone-dead streets

where shadows played giants on crumbling walls

to the chasm where millions wept and leapt

into the dark and the roar of flames.


The child peered down and troubled asked,

‘What place is this?’

‘Extinction,’ she said.

Furl unfurl

Playing with a twitter prompt word—’unfurl’.


Unfurl the night sky spangled with stars,

swirl it a cloak about your shoulders,

wear hurled starlight upon your face,

listen to the skirl

of hunting owls—talons

uncurl rose petals,

scatter their heavy scent,

and fill their cupped bowls

with the light of a dark pearl moon

Unfurl sheets,

white in the wind,

and turn for home,

speed over curling waves,

green as new leaves,

pearled with spring rain,

watch the clifftop,

watch where gulls swirl.

That’s where I’ll be.


Banners of birds unfurl

flags of new-fledged wings,

furled fists of spring buds

burst. Beneath last year’s leaves,

curled in deep loam,

the scuttlers and nibblers stir,

and in shallow pools, pebbles

smoothed by time and current

glow moon-pale

as river pearls.

The din of the birds

Jilly is running a month of Jim Harrison prompts again, so that’s my daily treat sorted.

“Spring day, too loud for talk
when bones tire of their flesh
and want something better.”



 The din of the birds


Some days, my ears tire of the din of the birds,

When the long-winged hawk hangs in the still air,

And about my feet, the bent grasses where hides the hare

Call me, with the moist voice of the rain-bubbling earth.

Haibun: Long spring day

This extreme haibun (55 words) is for the dverse prompt, long spring day.

Sun, hothouse orange, lowering to the tree line, shines directly into the west windows, shines through the open inner doors, floods the kitchen and beyond. We sit at the window, lapped by golden meadow and eat supper with soft spring sun in our plates.


Light stretches the length

of a tender-budded branch

spring fire ignited.

Winter music

I tried to get all the Secret Keeper’s prompt words


into a single triolet and didn’t manage it. Had to make it a duo. The photo is beautiful, DOGA.



Film of ice over winter lake,

Bare trees list when the wind blows cold,

Songbirds their sad music make.

Film of ice over winter lake,

Snow is falling flake by flake,

Softly. Forms before the night is old,

Film of ice. Over winter lake,

Bare trees list when the wind blows cold.


Huddled in the thorny hedge,

Beneath a sky where cold stars stare,

The small birds perch on heaven’s edge.

Huddled in the thorny hedge,

When nothing rhymes or feathers fledge,

In nests like poplar trees, so bare,

Huddled in the thorny hedge,

Beneath a sky where cold stars stare.