by Helen Ivory | Mar 6, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Musical Ear Then there was the Welsh, male-voice choir that followed you around. They’d been at it for weeks, you said, turning up unannounced like carol singers at inconvenient times. You hadn’t minded at first. At least, their...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 5, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Coming Home Bridal ghosts of cherry trees welcome me home: still, mute, white omens in thick night, their laced branches held out like an offering – a glimmer of serenity, a brittle bridge leading me back into a tunnel of...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 4, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Sectioned The light chatters to itself It’s never known darkness Each hour we are cut from sleep To check we are still breathing The door to sleep must be left open Neil Richards has been writing poetry regularly...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 3, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
Listening to the Cock* I lived and worked in America. As the years passed by, I did not grow any younger. Marc Chagall. New York! New York! O my America! my new-found land of skyscrapers and hope as the millions walk their walk to death. ...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 2, 2018 | Prose & Poetry
New Beginnings We watched a man chase rainbows off the estate a starched pattern circled his greased back hair sipping a boiler maker with a brandy chaser, a glass of Cherry B for the wife. We were immortals in the garden of cement packed...
