by Helen Ivory | Jun 6, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Hagler would run backwards in his army boots Because that’s how half of the fight would go, on the back foot. Such logic. Don’t lose power, keep your balance even on the temporary retreat. So on his training runs, alone in the cold darkness...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 5, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
* zen he went to the market zen he came home * waves swell and rise to a crest then flip and froth lathering the rocky bald-headed shore for a morning shave * fish sticks in the river Wayne F. Burke’s haiku and tanka have appeared in High...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 3, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
Learning to Drive Just take the mountain curves as tightly to the inside and as fast as surface conditions permit and the road’s edge or yellow center line allow my father was saying, concentrating on my desire to learn all the secrets of driving....
by Helen Ivory | Jun 2, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
looking up I color vision decreases as distance increases leaving us myopic beneath the distant night sky II sixty beckons on the horizon of September & it’s painfully clear what won’t be accomplished before my course is run III frozen...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 1, 2016 | Prose & Poetry
My Love is so ignorant My love drinks water from plastic cups. Leaning its elbows against the wooden table, Lost in thought, it watches the river going through the city. My love is so thoughtful and thirsty That it fails to feel the touch of rain...
by Helen Ivory | May 29, 2016 | 2016 poetry picks, Prose & Poetry
Ghosted It’s not like he’d planned to wake up after 23 years of marriage, to find the taps turned off, everything dried out on the draining board, no one checking the mains, bulb gone in the hall, the garden too barbered for its own good. He laced...