by Helen Ivory | Apr 7, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Vulpes vulpes It began with an old shoe placed at my front door. A brown brogue, left, size 9. Scuffed at the toe, worn unevenly at the heel. I placed it on the wall at the front of the house. Unclaimed and wet from the rain, the brogue was still...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 6, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Our back yard 1965-2011 I’d like a stop motion movie of this public statement of change One photo taken every day from the bus passing our back garden on its way to Relief Things beaming in vanishing into slow riff seasons The house remains...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 5, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Dance Perhaps it came after the unsteady standing, those first tottering steps into daddy’s arms; nursery tunes demanding a physical response, forcing me to shake and quiver like a wire. Next a girl understands how boys will watch, how...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 4, 2019 | 2019 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Siblings I can remember raw eggs sat sweating in cups dried scabs splitting into islands, as we banged together our knees under the table He was the older one but I the fiercer Holes kicked through cheap chipboard, the door’s tantrum-keepsakes....
by Helen Ivory | Apr 3, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Rattling Memories For Margaret Henderson (Nee Cumisky) I went for you. You could never afford to go. Ireland was a dream of yours. In Galway’s Eyre Square, your voice became more and more Irish. The odd Gaelic expression shuffling from your...
