by Helen Ivory | Dec 27, 2017 | 12 days 2017
Snowgrip The snow has come my car wedged in its inches of icing pockmarked with bird tracks Under blanket and dressing gown I watch others graft with shovels enabling my escape They scrape away cold scraps hack at raw earth I feel friction in the...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 26, 2017 | 12 days 2017
the cumquats of christmas past you hailed your taxi tuesday the eight–– eenth of february 2014 at four twenty seven p.m. i watched it approach swerve to the kerb its back doors fly open––if this was death i saw it crouched behind the wheel & jaded as...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 25, 2017 | 12 days 2017
Sensing the stable New-born eyes don’t focus for a while, but warmed by the breath of animals and the love of a young girl, the baby gradually became aware of a cow that woke him when she lowed, a donkey nibbling straw, the breeze whispering through the door to ruffle...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 24, 2017 | 12 days 2017
Growing gifts A church spire pricks the dull sky and it starts snowing birds have gone into hiding, the flowers will wait till spring, the milkman finds his, a thankless job and the snowman is forced outdoors while the coniferous comes indoors...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 23, 2017 | 12 days 2017
Boar’s Head We were passing through Borley and I was thinking, as I changed gear to go up the hill, woods either side, of the wild boars that lived there and gave it its name and whether there are still boars there and, if so, how big they might...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 22, 2017 | 12 days 2017
Christmas Lights after Anne Sexton
Santa is turning on the Christmas lights I am waiting for my diagnosis crowds have gathered on the memorial green for the white explosion of light with a ho-ho-ho baritone Santa thumps down the switch God I will try...
