by Helen Ivory | Nov 11, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
The generosity of the dead cannot be reckoned in coin or note is peculiar to the moment is subject to whim for the dead are not beyond fancy varies with the season (you might think it greatest at Samhain Dia de Muertos All Hallows’ Eve no: then...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 10, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
The Kiso Road For WSW I Kiso: clear as a bell among the mountains. Write me, the river says. Witness the road beside me. II The clouds are still tonight. The sky is smoke-blackened but the fires are cold. Time claims the haiku. The children grow...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 9, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
M. Dubois’ Dreams Day is a blown clock, its last wisps ceding to horizon. Heron’s doppelgänger floats belly up on the lake; night, laid like a thousand year egg, breaks over her. The stir of wings whispers a prayer for earthly things; the quench...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 8, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Malt I was a sickly child and for my health Ma fed me Malt from a big brown jar. Glass, big bellied with a silvery lid that we used afterwards to hold a candle to light the cellar. Malt was thick. More gloopy than syrup or treacle and folded back...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 7, 2020 | Featured, Poetry
Mamgu In the coal-dark kitchen of Mamgu’s house above the fireplace scratched with coal-dust, brief sunlight reflects in the miner’s lamp. Every morning Mamgu would polish it with Brasso and a red cotton cloth. Her thin hands handled...
