At dverse it is Quadrille night. Grace is in charge and has us writing a 44 word poem to include the word ‘creak’
7.30am he puts on his headphones,
shuts out the day, strides
down the platform and gets
on the train. He can’t hear
the creak of his seat as it
swings down the line. Just the beat
in his mind of the life left behind.
At dverse tonight Kim is in charge of Tuesday Poetics and wants us to focus on a particular aspect of autumn. This was inspired by seeing lines of leaves drifting down river yesterday.
Strings of leaves stretch out
down river.
A fleet of fire boats,
driven by the current.
Under full sail
bouncing along, riding the ripples.
Reds and ambers.
So light they barely touch water.
Bristling downstream,
an autumn invasion.
A growing flotilla. Countless boats
launched from trees.
Joining our visions poured into the river,
The moors we saw
heather, stonechat, dry stone walls
small bent trees, a palette of lichens.
The sunsets we saw
breathing fire over the ridge
woods that ghosted out of the mists, a single swan,
moonlight, shadows, stars jewelling the weir.
This is the cycle, this is the ride
taking everything down to the river mouth.
At the turn of the tide,
the turn of the season
it’s all gathered up and carried away.
welshstream 