Quadrille 93

The hobnail feet of Winter
mash us into slush

as if to press iced wine
from our broken skins

a crush on spirits
of summer love

tasted, stripped
just off the vine

sleet’s sharp rhythm
in robes of immaculate white

dancing
on our graves



Quadrille for dVerse

Quadrille – Crack

The crack of dawn…
is like a big taco!

OK, a big breakfast taco –
scrambled egg clouds
stuffed in a flour tortilla.

The sun split your sleep
against the bowl
and whisked your dreams.

It’s quite a mouthful.
You’re going to need salsa.



Quadrille for dVerse

Quadrille – Voce

We play Voce like backyard Bocce –
rolling our tongues across verdure,
verbiage, herbiage, lawntastic poems
we’re having ball –
trying to avoid the gutter
or splitting infinities –
we’re Bowling for Dollars
(OK, maybe not)
but for a braggadocio moment
we win naming rights
in the Garden.


For dVerse Quadrille and friends.

Quadrille – Dragony

Dragony:

That firestorm
of nerves teething
when you need to shed
your alligator brain –

Because snakeskin
swallowed you whole.
Because, impossible to imagine,
you are both pig and python here.

That scaly lump in your throat
is you –
a stretch to get over
yourself.


For dVerse Quadrille and friends.

Quadrille – Uppity

Upstart whimsy
says shake it up,
wake it up –
shake loose from under
that downy blanket,
down so long don’t know
which way is up,
preposterous preposition
gets a heads up noogie
man up up up and away
the whole skyward gizmo
upended


For dVerse Quadrille

Delivery

The sun, great spectral
obstetrician – yes! –
doctor
of divinity – M.D., M.B.E., A.C.E.
delivering us to morning
in scrubs of light –
and us squalling our birthright
across the broken waters,
our faces squashed with
pillow marks,
anxiously counting our blessings,
our newborn fingers
and toes.


For dVerse Quadrille
And The Twiglets