A poem on change for Dverse poets

carrying change
from my back pocket
into an unknown future
not always knowing where
the road lies ahead
but always the certainty
that change is as inevitable
as the passing of the stars

And slowly answered Arthur from the barge: ‘the old order changes, yielding place to new, and God fulfills himself in many ways, lest one good custom should corrupt the world…’

from ‘The Passing of Arthur’ by Alfred Lord Tennyson


I’ve always heard that pigs might fly
but never knew a cow so high
that it would float among the clouds
and smile on people passing by
just held by tethers to the earth
a cow of such amazing girth
ballooning in the sky

Today it’s quadrille at dVerse, and De wants us to write poetry using the word balloon in a poem with 44 words.



A haibun on a childhood experience for Dverse poetics

I’m nine years old and I’ve been down to the shop for Mum, dawdling a bit longer than I should have.  Now it’s getting dark, and I have a couple of blocks to walk before I get home.  But these streets are familiar and lights are coming on in the houses around me.   A car pulls over to the pavement a little further up the road, where the shadows are deep from a high wooden fence.  The engine is running, and someone in the back seat opens a door so that it’s partly across the footpath.  My steps slow, and I’m uneasy about what is happening.  But I’m a good sprinter, so I suddenly take to my heels and race across to the other side of the road.  The car door slams, and it starts to do a sudden turn.  Fear lends wings to my heels.  I’m not far from home and I run faster than I’ve ever run before.  My heart is in overdrive.

I arrive panting into our warm bright kitchen and try to tell my mother what happened, but she’s busy and not really listening.  I just know that I have avoided something black, something that will always be there, somewhere at the back of my mind…

of long winter nights
closing in