Am I Then A Bullfrog?

Am I then a bullfrog Ever croaking my own name Hunting through the morass To make a meal of fame? A hunger most intemperate –  It loathes to be denied- But though I feed it day and night Is never satisfied This was written for the newest dVerse prompt on taboo:

The New Avebury

Standing outside the landfill She raised her hands and cried, “This is our Avebury! Center of the known world For here we have buried The remains of our gods. Weep and Rejoice, O Man! You too shall pass this way.” This poem was written in response to the dVerse prompt, “Impermanence” :

The Pole of Relative Inaccessability

Explorers Traveling to the pole Of relative inaccessibility Often lost frostbitten toes While stripping off their socks Sloughing them like a snake Shaking free of old skin  Venturing inward Toward my remote places I wonder What do I risk peeling away my excess layers? Written as part of dVerse’s weekly Quadrille prompt (#98) This week’s […]

Tea and Lentils

A light rain is falling on Lake Agnes And I’ve had my fill of tea and lentils Which is why I am seated on this grey rock Hands resting in Dhyana mudra Pouring myself out with each breath Until I am once again empty This morning’s poem is in response to the Quadrille #97 prompt […]

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