Beginning Again

I’m a little behind on prompts, so this poem is for Frank’s haikai challenge about the Wolf Moon, DVerse’s haibun Monday about beginnings, and JusJoJan day 7, “mix.”

At the beginning of this year, I think of the last — a mixture of joyous and difficult, heavy on the bitterness — and I get nervous. Emotions cannot void the truth: that I got through 2019 (someone even told me I was thriving), and the same can be for 2020. Memories of sadness stick a little better, but count the stars of happy moments — if you are able to number them.

January moon
After fullness starts anew —
Stellar companions


DVerse Prosery #7

This is the first time I am posting for DVerse Prosery. We are to write a piece of flash-fiction that includes a line from a poem. This week’s poem is “Cow” by Jim Harrison, and the line is “A cow is screaming across the arroyo.” Please tell me what you think, since this might get very strange. Have fun!


“the centre cannot hold;…
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches toward Bethlehem to be born?”

— W.B. Yeats, “The Second Coming”

The earth and heavens have flipped: A fish is floating in the sky. A deluge drives down from the dark clouds, evaporating before it hits the cracked aridity of desert ground. A dehydrated cow fears being dried into jerky, and searching fearfully and futilely, is screaming across the arroyo, while it jumps over the crater-covered moon.

The sun and moon are in a desert dance, as earth and sky are battling. They must find a way to meet in the middle, yet it is impossible. Soon all fish will be floating, clouds will vanish, and all arroyos will be silent and dry.

Hunter’s Moon

illustration of moon showing during sunset
Photo by David Besh on

Waiting for nighttime

To reveal a companion

On this search for love

For Frank J. Tassone’s haikai prompt this week. Click here for more info. It turns out that this month’s full moon was last night, and I didn’t realize it, though I did look at the moon. I wrote the above haiku yesterday. Then, this morning, upon reading that the “Hunter’s Moon” was actually yesterday, I wrote this:

I saw you last night

My desired companion,

Sans recognition


I walk on cloud, stumbling into pools of moonlight
And lakes of midnight, stars’ eyes
Creating an Argus in the sky —
Watch me in wonder as I wander

     a     a     r
m      l     d    o           y
i     l

To the banks of our galactic river —
“A land flowing with milk and honey.”

I decided to post this and share it with Real Toads’s “Try Everything” prompt, since I rarely write something this “creatively” formatted. This is basically a stream-of-consciousness poem, written a few days ago, and I’m not quite sure where it came from. What does it mean to you?

Cash Extinction

For Fandango’s one-word prompt, “cash”, and the DVerse quadrille, where we are supposed to use some form of “extinction”. This is a little silly, but I hope you like it. 

Pulling out my credit card to pay

For something costing only $3.05,

I wonder where my cash has gone

And if cash will survive.

Pennies have already nearly gone extinct,

Many other coins are on the brink,

And wallet space for dollar bills unfilled.

Crowded Together

Crowded together around

A table, they seem like a

Friendly, gregarious bunch —

But they hunch over their phones,

Engrossed in their own

Technological Wi-Fi world:


The pinging of messaging.

The absence of true sharing.

The irony of this is that I am posting it from my phone. For Fandango’s one-word prompt. 

On Inner Beauty

For this.

What kind of advice can I impart

Without feeling like I’m playing a part,

Living like a hypocrite?

Which is the message I can give,

Which I can accept myself?

(Can I accept myself?)


My poems are the message:

Make room for your words, a haven,

Make room for yourself, do not give in

Until the negativity is crowded out.

Allow not the silencing of the spirit’s shout.

Update: I am sharing this poem with DVerse Poetics this week, because living with an eating disorder and especially the associated thoughts is absolutely maddening. Thankfully I am much better than 2 or 3 years ago, but it still hasn’t really gone away…

Keep the Empty Spaces

This micro-poem was inspired by this challenge at Real Toads and the photo below, found at Fandango’s flash-fiction #29.

Why must a wide road

Cut // through the forest?

Sentinel-trees line the highway

Watching people destroy

The natural spaces // and themselves.

We try to fill the empty parts

With painted, dead asphalt,

But Nature whispers to return

To Nature, and to her Creator.