by Helen Ivory | Apr 17, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
To Essex Worn stones lean toward the train, where blue lichens graze on lost nouns, passengers stuck still waiting for a service. In Leyton, four men carry one bouquet, dark lilies and chrysanthemums, extras from Brueghel’s Triumph, their...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 16, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Walking I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits, unless I spend four hours a day at least…sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields – Henry David Thoreau i’m sorry Mr Henry David Thoreau it wasn’t Nature’s subtle...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 15, 2019 | 2019 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Vital Signs We laughed, in spite of the darkness, at the circles around your eyes. and you rolled them over hand-knitted hats in the chemo ward, to cover things we tried to hide. when I shaved your head and the last of your hair fell in your lap, you...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 14, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Check you, on my doorstep, loaded with one bam-on-the-glass headbanger wasp. You’re offering me sharp glimpses of glint, that dropped tumbler’s unswept-up chip. How it grins from the grout between tiles. There you are, crazy among the...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 13, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
His Mum Said He Liked Me Easter holidays 1998, puberty imminent his lips as dry as the grass we are trespassing on my cheek is sweaty though, makes it sweet. Mansell Junior School has a two-story building that we are jealous of but our rigid...
