by Helen Ivory | Mar 11, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Footnotes to a river Pine trees are confirmation that darkness clings erratically. The river-gums, on the other hand, are pale as thighs. A streambed knuckled with pebbles. In conversation with the river, you will not match its fluency. Bellbird,...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 10, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
мы сделаны из кусочков тишины вместе взятых. гроб из плоти – это тело оно содержит нас от рождения до смерти но в небе только одно облако осталось висеть на углу наклонного здания и кто в любой момент мог упасть we are made of...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 9, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Chilled Yeah, I’m okay; been beatin’ up the soil with a spade and fork deadheading the has-beens who no longer talk I have to say in this bone crushing winter I nearly gave up but I’m alright now. Gonna sort the pond next and yup, many a thing has...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 8, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
Letter At last my tongue unfurls its vindications. I’m not a silent object of love—a rouged letter in the ruckles of your bed. You try and squeeze me into your glass slippers, but I’m soaring towards the ceiling, crystal shards studding my...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 7, 2022 | Featured, Poetry
After Dinner We take up our positions either side of the mantelpiece – he’s in his rocking-chair behind The Times, mouth moving, no sound; I’m counting stitches, the pattern, the history; outside, applause: hailstones on flagstones, then silence...
