Kathleen Gresham Everett
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everettpoetry.bsky.social
Kathleen Gresham Everett
@everettpoetry.bsky.social
2.1K followers 1.2K following 3.3K posts
Poet and writer living in the magical little cottage. Writing daily thecourseofourseasons.com.
Welcome!

Abolish ICE and DHS.
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everettpoetry.bsky.social
Kathleen Gresham Everett @everettpoetry.bsky.social · 27d
Shadows dapple the path on a November afternoon at the magical little cottage. ✨️
Afternoon shadows dapple the faded red brick walk to a charming cottage painted green with blue trim. A pumpkin sits at the front door, a exclamation of orange in the sun. A lovely scene.
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
southernfairy1.bsky.social
December, by Eugène Grasset, 1896. December 1st. Art Nouveau Calendar. The winter solstice is approaching.
November 30, 2025 at 11:00 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
southernfairy1.bsky.social
(Christmas card: Tomte Gnome with Cat, 1970s/ Lennart Helje; 1940-2017)
November 30, 2025 at 2:29 AM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
martin65.bsky.social
This gorgeous season-threshold poem by @violetagm.bsky.social.

"Winter loves me windowpaned,

inlaid with bare trees. Here I am, bearing
darkness: another season draped in starlings."
Seasonal Affective Disorder What does winter love more than days that contract like water corrugating into ice? More than the claustrophobic kiss of gray drop-ceilinged skies? It loves a wind howl, the shard-sharp catch of breath and then its wraith -- a ghost parade of sighs to celebrate near-death. Every year, I find myself snow-stuck heart-deep; again double-exposed, sleet-streaked, pressed against glass. Winter loves me windowpaned, inlaid with bare trees. Here I am, bearing darkness: another season draped in starlings. --Violeta Garcia Mendoza
November 30, 2025 at 2:30 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
tomsnarsky.bsky.social
happy #smallpoemsunday! 💜

feel free to participate by posting small poems you wrote, +/or small poems you love by somebody else :)

here’s an excerpt from Courtney Bush’s poem “Goats” collected in The Lamb With The Talking Scroll (Blush, 2025)
Every goat story is the preface to five or six more. The radio said it’s not morning, but that’s what it is. Grass and a trampoline with dish soap and the garden hose. An intense danger underlying all things, to be painted on computer paper with edible paint. The way the world eats you and makes you forgive it. A list poem is a spell. They say show don’t tell but I’m in love with telling.
November 30, 2025 at 3:22 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
tomsnarsky.bsky.social
🐐 asterismbooks.com/product/the-...
The Lamb With The Talking Scroll | Asterism Books
What began as a simple fascination with a single image from one of Rainer Maria Rilke’s Sonnets to Orpheus spiraled into a personal quest to find a real grail via dreams, frogs, physics, gauntlet feel...
asterismbooks.com
November 30, 2025 at 3:23 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
poetbex.bsky.social
For #smallpoemsunday I'm sharing my poem 'Shortbread' from my new pamphlet, Circulaire 💛
writtenoffpublishing.com/shop/p/circu...
Shortbread I add four teaspoons of cocoa to my grandmother’s shortbread recipe. The dough becomes terracotta clay which I mould into an urn, curve into the shape of myself, my floured hands sinking into its hips. There is something primitive about the way it folds like a bowl, then flattens into a tablet, fork strokes becoming language. I slide the tray into the oven, leave it twenty minutes to bake. An anxiety-hollowed afternoon is softened with this preparation. For I am a body, and I deserve something sweet.
November 30, 2025 at 5:33 PM
everettpoetry.bsky.social
First Sunday of Advent 2025

In the darkest of days,
hope glimmers through the gloom..
An expectant hope
An anticipatory hope
Hope!

Light one candle. 🕯

#Advent2025
November 30, 2025 at 3:55 PM
everettpoetry.bsky.social
From grateful.org
Word for the Day from Grateful.org
November 30, 2025 at 12:08 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
southernfairy1.bsky.social
The fairies glimmer
in autumn's deep woods;
tucked in magical nooks
of an enchanted childhood.”

—Angie Weiland-Crosby

“The Fairy Tree” by John Mason
November 30, 2025 at 1:55 AM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
needlesstosay.bsky.social
Francisco Fonseca
November 29, 2025 at 9:18 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
kymburlee.bsky.social
she plants
a harvest of stars
so deep their bones go quiet
till tiny starlings sprout
from the still soil
and soar

#poetry
November 29, 2025 at 9:18 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
sedserio.com
a poem uploads—
its voice
still
November 29, 2025 at 6:37 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
dannyboywesthawk.bsky.social
November 29, 2025 at 6:38 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
theguardian.com
Tom Stoppard, playwright of dazzling wit and playful erudition, dies aged 88
Tom Stoppard, playwright of dazzling wit and playful erudition, dies aged 88
A theatrical sensation since the 1960s, whose dramas included Arcadia, The Real Thing and Leopoldstadt, Stoppard also had huge success as a screenwriter The playwright Tom Stoppard, whose playful erudition dazzled the theatregoing world for decades, has died aged 88. One of a select band of writers from any discipline to earn his own adjective – “Stoppardian” – in the Oxford English Dictionary, he delighted in the most improbable juxtapositions: philosophy and gymnastics in Jumpers (1972); early 19th-century landscape gardening and chaos theory in Arcadia (1993); rock music, dissident Czech academics and the love poetry of Sappho in Rock ’n’ Roll (2006). Continue reading...
www.theguardian.com
November 29, 2025 at 5:17 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
catacalypto.bsky.social
A story Stoppard told several times, in several places:
"Years and years ago, there was a production of The Tempest, out of doors, at an Oxford college on a lawn, which was the stage, and the lawn went back towards the lake in the grounds of the college, and the play began in natural light. But as it developed, and as it became time for Ariel to say his farewell to the world of The Tempest, the evening had started to close in and there was some artificial lighting coming on. And as Ariel uttered his last speech, he turned and he ran across the grass, and he got to the edge of the lake and he just kept running across the top of the water — the producer having thoughtfully provided a kind of walkway an inch beneath the water. And you could see and you could hear the plish, plash as he ran away from you across the top of the lake, until the gloom enveloped him and he disappeared from your view. And as he did so, from the further shore, a firework rocket was ignited, and it went whoosh into the air, and high up there it burst into lots of sparks, and all the sparks went out, and he had gone. "When you look up the stage directions, it says, 'Exit Ariel.”
November 29, 2025 at 6:10 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
tdklein.bsky.social
by the frozen lake
withered reeds
rustling in chill wind

*

wind howls in
withered fur
poor homeless old cat

(no cats were harmed in the making of this poem)

*

quiet beauty
rustling reeds
lady of the lake

#haiku
#dailyhaikuprompt
#poetry
#micropoetry
November 29, 2025 at 7:57 AM
everettpoetry.bsky.social
tenuous thin stems
rattling dry desiccated
grasses in the wind

#dailyhaikuprompt withered reeds
November 29, 2025 at 5:08 PM
everettpoetry.bsky.social
heads of heavy seed
considers coming winter
bowing of sea oats

#dailyhaikuprompt withered reeds
November 29, 2025 at 5:03 PM
everettpoetry.bsky.social
lessons and carols
tiny birds flit reed to reed
songs of sustenance

#dailyhaikuprompt withered reeds
November 29, 2025 at 4:57 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
kshepherdwrites.bsky.social
waning gibbous
through withered reeds
a mottled pearl

#dailyhaikuprompt withered reeds
November 29, 2025 at 4:05 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
hegelincanada.bsky.social
withered reeds
light breaking through
my certainties

#DailyHaikuPrompt (withered reeds) #haiku #senryu #3lines #micropoetry
November 29, 2025 at 3:39 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
lachance.bsky.social
dry rustle
of withered reeds
geese waddle here

#haiku #poetry
#DailyHaikuPrompt - withered reeds
November 29, 2025 at 4:08 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
msfulofgrace.bsky.social
#dailyhaikuprompt
#WitheredReeds

drought hastened drying
out withered reeds speeding up
building thatched hut roofs
November 29, 2025 at 4:38 PM
Reposted by Kathleen Gresham Everett
southernfairy1.bsky.social
The image is an illustration by Esther Bennink.
November 29, 2025 at 2:44 PM
everettpoetry.bsky.social
Gerry Rafferty - Baker Street (Official Video)
YouTube video by Gerry Rafferty
youtu.be
November 29, 2025 at 2:13 PM