Tag: dVerse
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Bridging
She lifts her torch to me. I do not return the favor. I’m too busy, stretching across the Bay. Bearing the Golden Gate from which they named me. Offering a way in, a way out, a way across. A way through. There is always a way. choppy water as the micro climate ends the moon…
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An Equinoxal Experience
A blanket of clouds eclipsed the sun. The temperature dropped accordingly. & the restaurant we intended to have dinner in had no open tables for two hours. Tired from our day of sightseeing Rochester, we followed our sorry-not-sorry host’s directions to a Sushi/Ramen restaurant located in the same mall. This one had plenty of seats.…
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Autumnal Deferral
pumpkin spice still these leaves refuse an Autumn slice a steady descent with pumpkin spice filling cups amid scurrying mice on a bright breezy day Nothing nice about autumn denied, save pumpkin spice We fold Autumn into our poems today, over at dVerse. The pub is open! Come join us!
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Rushing it!
Not even September’s end. Home Depot has a full display of the usual monsters. Orange and black enter the scene. Candy displays multiply. It’s enough to unleash my inner “Hulk Smash!” Enough to seize this world & shout “Stop!” Enough. crickets new costumes on sale We’re writing Quadrille #184 Smashing Poems over at dVerse today!…
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Soundside Serenity
A cool breeze blows to shore from Long Island Sound. The leaves of a nearby oak rustle in it. I close my eyes, feeling the refreshing cold sensation on my face. Listening to the soft ripple of water lapping rock. Glenn Island Park may be the Bear Mountain of New Rochelle, as Mira suggests. Right…
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Thunderstruck: an #AmericanSentence #haibun
She straightens her hair. Her hands guide the flattening iron as its jaws clench on locks of wavy hair. Snippets of steam rise before she draws the iron down and then grasps another strand. There must be some occasion. But it’s too early for our newphew’s wedding. Lightening dances across thunderheads that encroach the sky.…
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Knife’s Edge
A sliver between water, where families make their home. Leave for work. Return home. Celebrate birthdays, holidays. Live their lives. Until an inevitable day of packing and moving. By them, or others. “And so it goes…” the space between twilight and night turning tide for dVerse Poets’ Quadrille #183 – A Sliver of a Poem…
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Of Super Moons and Moves
A steady stream of Spanish chatter woffs up from outside of the first floor apartment. The family residing there hosts a birthday party for one of their children. It’s a hot September afternoon, and only the hint of a breeze rustles the still-green leaves of the neighborhood trees. It’s our fifth day in our new…
Frank J. Tassone 