by Helen Ivory | May 25, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
December: Dusk The tide is out. Sandbanks bar our way, the channel too shallow now for us to leave before the water returns. We are safe from any sea-storm anchored here behind the saltmarsh. Glistening mud outlines the little pool where we lie,...
by Helen Ivory | May 24, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Valentine Today I was writing on the train, embarrassed, ergo I kept adding bracketed references (St Pancras, 2013) And arrows to my caesurae and crossings-out. I scrawled ‘to-do list’ and then below Bullet-pointed all the things...
by Helen Ivory | May 23, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Too Much Sky We trudge through air like setting cement, each boot-print a muddy hallmark to the silk screen of leaves at our feet. The river drives out straight from these few trees, channelling across a landscape unwilling to rise above itself. I must...
by Helen Ivory | May 22, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
Dreaming teacher In the hollow of the night you leap from your bed and slip through the patio doors into your garden. Slim legged and shyly bowed head, you graze – not the woman sleek in black who teeters through your working day but...
by Helen Ivory | May 21, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
The Halo round a Frying Pan — is hard to see under the cold white light of a halogen bulb. Blackened by use and misuse, caked in fat from yesterday’s fry-up, the empty vessel is restless to go to work again. Where there’s grease there’s worth....
by Helen Ivory | May 20, 2014 | Prose & Poetry
The Miracle of Our Evolution The creek full of dead fish/ sunken/ muddy bottom laid flat -dead eyed stares -opened mouths -gills collapsed we waded into the water and our feet began to rot we ran to the doctor who couldn’t cure us I became a...
