by Helen Ivory | Dec 3, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Realm From an upstairs window here at home, the double line of ragged hills looks flat as file dividers in slightly different tones of blue. The thrill of finding a wide realm between them! Old farms with undead yellow elms, immense bronze globes...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 2, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
About Breath we’re together round a small screen like I remember when you were young round the hearth but there’s no flame and the doctor is pointing with a red pen at a cavity between your lungs talking about lymphocytes which have formed...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 1, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Missive This is my dead letter my notebook of sifted seeds my kraken spilly of ghost thoughts In the middle of the night when it is soft and varnished as a boat’s hull, when the angels and dogs have gone to sleep I send you a grey gull to lick...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 30, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
Cat Call At five a.m. or maybe earlier the cat scratches like a black wolf to get in. One of us climbs out of bed, sleep blustering us to automatic. He jumps aboard. We settle back. At five thirty or maybe slightly later, the cat scratches like a...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 29, 2019 | Prose & Poetry
On the Calendar The last job of the fading year is transferring the important dates of birthdays and anniversaries, policy renewals, the prompts to ‘save the day’, the cards to buy, parties we’ll plan, perhaps outdoors, if we get the weather....
