by Helen Ivory | Jun 20, 2016 | 2016 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Dawn And the raven suited night, feathered at the edges with the pinking guts of morning sends from its shearing seams a flock of cloth winged commuters to gather at platforms, beaks towards the yellow lights of the Greater Abellio service...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 19, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Under Putney Bridge The tide is out and I take the stone steps down into the mud. The air is quiet here and damp walls grow around me, over and below, arching grey. There are ducks. And the weed has been neatly combed by the river’s see-you-later....
by Helen Ivory | Jun 17, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Cold Morning in Borrowdale On the frozen, silent valley floor, all wire is barbed with tiny frost-spikes of pure cold light. The dead grasses, too, have white frost-thorns that melt and vanish under a finger’s touch. The mist rises and the valley...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 16, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Hurrying Woman circa 1912 after a sketch held in the archive at Marjons College, Plymouth This is my idea of cleaning: to polish the mahogany as I slide full speed down the helter skelter bannisters. He’s at it again, the artist, moony-eyed,...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 15, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
My Place on the worn couch you sit in my place the indent of the cushions a loose fit for your small body that seeks the warmth I vowed you today I say nothing and let you be some amend made a bill paid that written down I owed words spoken spring...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 14, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Amongst the treasures of the British Museum Godless, made in China, and in the room the other Godless lot put up, a drift of eyes alive with mourning move like contraband, and taking in the bits and pieces hoarders robbed or otherwise acquired,...
