From the Stars

NASA Goddard Space Flight Center from Greenbelt, MD, USA [Public domain]

After the bang, burning
sound and light from indefinite drift
expanding red and blueshifts

now blanketed, we sit
I shiver
at your touch, burning

heat and cold, turning
sound and light

the stardust trapped within
our cells, a microcosm—

Yes! I see it now.

A quadrille for my dVerse prompt today. The prompt word is shiver. Join us!

Crowned

^{Odilon Redon, “Béatrice”}

she’s crownedxxxxxxxxxresplendent
in golden light, xxxxxxxxthe sun is gowned,
halo-headed xxxxxxxxxxand the warmth of her smile
shimmering, xxxxxxxxxxthaws heart-frost–and ground,
she is the bright future xwhere a seed planted now sprouts–
and there is hopexxxxxx knowledge will grow, star-dusted
again xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxand glowing

A cleave quadrille for dVerse. De has asked us to use the word crown. A quadrille is a dVerse poetry form. It’s a poem of 44 words.

At the Fair

Frost Fair on the Thames, Anonymous, c.1685

He bought ribbons for my hair,
then kissed me sweet
warm lips on mine in frosted air–

impossible the tasks he set,
so, fare-thee-well to he
I’ll find another yet

next market-day,
ribbon-adorned my hair,
for desires such weighed
in love, all is fair.

A quadrille for dVerse. The prompt word is fair, and I went to ballads and history: the London frost fairs and Scarborough Fair.

Careening: Quadrille

^{“This image shows what astronomers think is one of the coldest brown dwarfs discovered so far (red dot in middle of frame). The object, called SDWFS J143524.44+335334.6, is one of 14 such brown dwarfs found by NASA’s Spitzer Space Telescope using infrared light.” Wikimedia Commons}

It careens through space—
failed star, the astronomers say,
ancient and cold, they name it, The Accident

because they don’t understand
how compelled, it searches for the light it knows is there

invisible and beyond our perception, like dreams,
constant, like time, endless, eternal.

A quadrille for dVerse using the prompt word careen. I wondered what careened through space and found this article about “The Accident.”

From the Ashes–Quadrille

Blast and crash,
bright white bomb flash–
red-fire flowers and dragon’s hot breath
destruction, and the aftermath, of forever

~ashes~

from which you rise. Again. Remember.
Clay-cloaked secrets star-baked, retold in storied glory—
Golem or phoenix? Myth or fated?
Survivor embraced or avenger awaited?

For dVerse where Sarah is hosting Quadrille Monday. We’re to use the word ash. This is a puente.

Paper with phoenix pattern, Unidentified artist(s) , Chinese, early 20th century. Purchase, Bequest of Dorothy Graham Bennett, 1989, Metropolitan Museum of Art

The Rocky Shore

^{Winslow Homer, On a Lee Shore}

A stone’s toss
from sea to beach,
where stoic women wait,

beseeching gods of stone-face
for their men’s grace.

Storm-tossed waves, deep-sea graves–

a stone’s toss
to stone-cut hearth, the fire dead.

Uncut threads
tie spirit-treads to stony-shore–
stone-cold hearts still yearn for more.

A quadrille for dVerse, where De asks us to use the word stone. I decided to go with the season.

Linger–Quadrille

^{Almost autumn with an Egret. the Delaware River at Red Bank Battlefield}

Linger here—wait, hereafter–
listen to the gulls call in laughter.
Rest awhile in this in-between
the sky so blue, the trees still green—

soon, the russet-leaves will fall,
and we’ll recall–

memories dim–rose-scent and sun-kissed skin
as icy fingers stroke your chin.

A quadrille for dVerse. Linda has asked us to use the word linger. We’re just about at the autumnal equinox, and the weather seems perfectly balanced. I wish it would linger like this for awhile.

Feeling Groovy

Not old enough to drink or drive—

feeling tongue-and-groovy, we think

we know romance.

Remember your purple-striped bell-bottom pants,

that vest with fringe, you’d wear at school?

My hair was long, we were lean.

I embroidered a peace sign on my jeans.

So cool.

For dVerse Quadrille where De has asked us to use the word groove. Our older child found these grainy yearbook photos of us. I’ll have to look for some better photos.

Hearts at the River’s Edge

Driftwood, Sunrise on the Delaware River

The earth murmurs ancient heart-songs.
Hear them in root-rush and rock-rhythms
tapped by sea-spray rainbows.
The eagle’s whistle slices the peached-tipped clouds–
life and death balanced. Hand-in-hand, we watch the light glide through
love-grief fault lines, as the ghosts dance at the river’s edge.

A quadrille (a poem of exactly 44 words) for dVerse where De asks us to use the word heart. I could have gone in so many directions!

Withstanding

^{Great Blue Heron, Delaware River at Red Bank Battlefield}

Tsunami waves of misunderstanding
surge from sea and overland,
destruction in their flow,
flotsam when they go.

But beneath blue sky,
the heron stands in pensive pose—
His thoughts? Who knows?
Warm-blooded, hollow-boned, his lungs
an ancient dinosaurs’ shifted gift, far-flung-DNA
stays. Life everlasting.

It’s quadrille Monday at dVerse. Lisa has asked us to use the word stand.