when there is smoke: haibun quadrille

To blame is to disown. My cereal curdles as California wildfires turn homes to ash and, yet again, power trumps empathy and expertise. The vitriol and forest management tales emanating from Washington threaten to spoil my breakfast.

shovelling snow:

the President’s fire fighting

philosophy

:

©️2018 Ontheland

New York Times:
Trump Says California Can Learn From Finland on Fires. Is He Right?

In response to dVerse Poets Pub Monday quadrille prompt (‘spoil’) I have written this 44-word haibun.

not winking: a quadrille

Closing one eye

I am not winking

I am blinded by sunlight

Posing on one leg

I am not avian

I am practicing yoga

Singing the blues

I am not downhearted

I am indigo

Closing both eyes

I am not tired

I am listening

:

©️2018 Ontheland

The Monday afternoon dVerse challenge from WhimsyGizmo is to write a quadrille (44-word poem) using the word “wink”.

Image source

persuasion: a quadrille

Early autumn is gone,

dried leaves scattered,

marigolds dead from frost,

yet, Sun sparkles ochre colours,

pulses from behind grey clouds,

at night, waxing Moon lingers low,

two matches striking,

begging sparks of happiness

from cold bones who mourn

that what has been departs.

~

©️2018 Ontheland

A quadrille (a 44-word poem) for dVerse Poets Pub using the word ‘early’.

unspoken judgment

into the ‘fiery wind’ what would I say?

scratched dirt jams my nails to the quicks…

this heaviness of breath, this seeping energy

if I ask…

will you admit your unspoken truth?

or brush it off with a laugh?

next time, I may speak.

:

This is a quadrille (poem of 44 words) using the dVerse prompt word ‘quick’. Thanks and credit must go to Jane Dougherty whose use of the phrase ‘words in the fiery wind’ in a recent poem, inspired me to write today.

©️2018 Ontheland

‘Earth is short’

I reason, Earth is short…’

~ Emily Dickinson

:

Life feels long but is quite short

We are of air,

of water, molecules,

eternity fore and aft,

knowing little

like butterflies morphed from tiny eggs

into a biosphere we call ‘Earth’

If only it were enough

to sip nectars,

to love

to fly

:

A quadrille for dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille #63

©️2018 Ontheland