by Kate Birch | Oct 31, 2023 | Featured, Poetry, Prose
Cellar Stories: Ash & Elder Sunday afternoon there’s always roast dinner. Then mum and dad go to church. The twins stay and wash dishes. Elder-twin picks up a plastic bag with unused Brussels sprouts inside. The cellar door is open. Elder-twin...
by Kate Birch | Oct 30, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
muted tethered i let her touch me without touching me (tears before bedtime) but (listening to the deep ache keeping the things that hurt close closed making space for kinder smotherings) i could never tell you friendship isn’t a consolation prize...
by Kate Birch | Oct 29, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Do you remember how we danced in the dark, the sky was still, the earth was breathing. After the guests left, after the wake, you stayed, and we stood close but not quite touching, until you took my arms and we swayed in time with the music of the...
by Kate Birch | Oct 28, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Pond life Take this pond, for example. Goldfish blow ellipses… you pause, breathe. The pond counts the beats: in for four, hold for seven. Lily pads float like Pac-men in a plant-based alternative to the game you wasted hours on as a kid. The pond...
by Kate Birch | Oct 27, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Thrift In the shadow of Drumadoon the pink bobble headed Thrift stitch the bones of basalt scree summer’s wreath for the cold stone that once rose angry red hot columns pastry cut pressed into the science of my camera. John G....
