Folded Word
Exploring the world, one voice at a time.
Tag: folded word
Naw’leans Revisited
It was a return trip, a bucket list type of thing. My memories had faded of this city, home of a favorite author, full of amazing architecture and wonderful food. A steamboat sung and paddled on the Mississippi, memories of the riverbank quickly replaced…
new moon, old ways
six minutes after dawn to the west of moonset in rolling Pennsylvania hills a full moon eclipses in the east where sunrise burns red setting daughter passes rising mother paths cross coming and going un-blue-moon drops from jet ink heights through blazing white light…
Fireweed
You never notice it until the middle of summer, when the magenta flower-spikes suddenly crowd every roadside and wasteland…once they have outgrown grass and nettles, and stand tall above the lesser whites and yellows of daisies, dandelions, clovers. In Britain we call it rosebay…
skunk trails…
accessible version for screen readers: skunk trails flash of lightning in the new year ©2019 by dt.haase A response to Folded Field Notes: Nocturnal dt.haase is a haiku poet, regular contributor to unFold, and a wanderer for wonder
Autumnal Shift
Flock of blackbirds moving over the house, silent as they almost always never are — heading south, one wing beat at a time. Leaving behind the September cries of the finches, (in French, no less — Vite! Vite! Vite! / Quick! Quick! Quick!); the…
snowfall…
accessible version for screen readers: snowfall — the white rabbit disappears ©2019 by dt.haase A response to Folded Field Notes : Silence dt.haase is a haiku poet, regular contributor to unFold, and a wanderer for wonder
Fossils
Out the back road of Charlestown, down a steep hill, across a disused railway, around a rough-brambled coastline and under the line of high tide: layers of grey mudstone, semi-eroded, open to the touch and tell their story. Some layers say little. Others retain…
heavy snow…
accessible version for screen readers: heavy snow the sound of a man who loves his own voice ©2019 by Michael O’Brien Michael O’Brien lives in Glasgow Scotland. He is the author of, As Adam (UP Literature), Big Nothing (Bones) and The Anabasis of Man…
Four Leafed Clover
Three, they say, is the largest number you’ll never need to count. Your eyes decide the Threeness or Unthreeness of things at a glance, along with Twoness, Oneness, Zeroality. Fourness and everything above is different, except when patterned like the spots on ladybirds and…
