by Helen Ivory | Sep 26, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Farmland Before my eyes the work of the farmers who have taken much hardship on themselves for each individual grain. When the crops and the grass stand in full splendour on the fields, autumn is close at hand, fast approaching and leading a...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 25, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
The Virtuous Man He was wise, there is no doubt, and he was seaworthy but equally buoyant was his life-giving wife. Together they captained a commendable crew, everybody knew theirs was a kind ship, well run, and of its like there were few. Then he died...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 24, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Ten Kinds of Haunting 1. Hand over hand clambering the hours 2. Voices in full rustle, scraping the shadow 3. The dying hour between one day and the next peopled by the dead, a nightly microcosm of Halloween 4. Roll call. 1:...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 23, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
Echoes in nuclear medicine, corridors like infinity mirrors. Everything screams off silver surfaces, lift doors, gurneys, forks in the refectory. I’m there early. Before visiting hours, smokers in slippers mingle by ambulances. I follow echoes,...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 22, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
His Boots I was in his boots again carrying the weight and wait I could smell his finger tips on the boot laces the dirt and grime that he shovelled out of the earth’s skull with his shoulders and hands. Such iron tendons that held my teenage...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 21, 2017 | Prose & Poetry
A galaxy of poets I’d always wondered what we were when we got together, normally alone, happily fighting the night, unobserved except for lovers and the moon, on a mountainside or shit job, a lock in, holding cell or college bar, too...
