arrayed s

Waves surround being–
always changing
both mover and moved.

The hand opens,
to let light pass

Birds squabble–
brown, ordinary,
almost invisible
in the freckled light.

And a heart
takes something—
call it hope, perhaps–
and dances a little
in the dark

A quadrille for dVerse, also inspired by a prompt from Miz Quickly, above.  I am always intrigued by her prompts, even if I don’t often have time to do them.  In this case it fit in well with my thoughts about Mish’s word, “freckle”.


32 thoughts on “Arrayed

      1. We only live a couple of miles outside the town, but you won’t see a single sparrow beyond the last house. They prefer living in gardens to living in fields. That must be an indictment of modern agriculture.

        Liked by 1 person

          1. I know there were several different kinds of sparrow in Europe and only the house sparrow is surviving in any numbers. Even they are declining. The others didn’t adapt to living in towns. And then there are cats…

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                  1. I saw a really freaky video of cat fish in the Tarn river catching pigeons that had gone down to the water to bathe and drink. Those fish are monsters! Husband lived in Albi btw. I don’t remember the catfish though.

                    Liked by 1 person

  1. Faith is sure of itself, hope is a lesser presence but has more resilience, I feel a catch and a twinge at the pairing… hope… perhaps.
    Always at the bottom of the box, hope is a gentle choreographer.
    Hope is my middle name, a connected Twix truth and legacy. Oh my… but I am loving this poem.

    Liked by 1 person

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