Hold air like water
float
traverse skyward
in a dream
unbroken
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dVerse prompt on AI. This picture came out of an AI program at the Dali Museum in St Petersburg. My childhood dream of swimming in air was typed into the program and this picture was created by AI.
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Texting with my daughter
Oh to be able to taste again
sweet tapas of Malaga
restaurants flung wide open
olives served which we never ordered
but still had to pay for
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dVerse prompt on food. One too many servings of covid right now.
Rain is falling
branches ready to snap
leaves blow everywhere
he waits to go rake
leaves pile higher
at least clear a path so I won’t fall down
little at a time will get the job done
🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁
Rain is falling
look the sun just came out
grab your rake and go
it might not last long
glistening on tree
how can you take a nap at times like this
it could be the last time we see this sun
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dVerse prompt on a pet peeve— like when my husband doesn’t help raking leaves 🍁 and I sit writing this
Houses for sale in the Algarve
follow the cobblestone to the yellow one
imagine myself speaking Portuguese
eu escrevo em poesia
nadar no Mediterrâneo
cultivar vegetais
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dVerse prompt concerning an imagined house — I’ll take one in the Algarve of Portugal. Translation:
I write in poetry/ swim in the Mediterranean/grow vegetables
My bread is rising
long loaves placed on a pan
now side by side
twice the size
and still growing
a hot oven is waiting
for the right time
to bake it crisp
yet soft and chewy
serve it warm
with Greek olive oil
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dVerse prompt to write a palinode
Dakotas spoke it as mni wak’an
mni (water)
wak’an (pure source or sacred)
there was no concept of devil
til white man saw it as bad spirit
water that was undrinkable
created mirages like spirits
over the waters
marked it on the map
Devils Lake
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Traveling in North Dakota, I camped at this lake.
It is bath time for the dog
he looks at me
like he knows the word bath
really it’s a shower
but I call it bath
he lets me take him in my arms
and placed in the tub
I spray him with water
rub him vigorously with suds
between the toes (especially between his toes)
and all over
I still remember a time when someone
showered me
dried my skin
and put ringlets in my hair
Although I am gone I see you there
so nice how you gathered flowers while I
(below in my coffin)
smiled the mortician’s smile
and watched as each of you
placed a rose upon the lid
before I was lowered into the earth
Now I would rather be placed
in a tree pod
my decomposition
feeding a fig tree
(remember the one
on the south side of the house)
you can eat my figs
There is sorrow in that
I would have to die twice
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NaPoWriMo Day 8 — writing from the POV of a dead person. Photo of an ancient burial urn taken at Muséo Archeologico Regionale Paolo Orsi in Syracuse, Sicily
wordshophop 