by Helen Ivory | Apr 8, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
House …4am and the birdsong begins, a wet January in a new city and I’m alone watching a man in Minnesota, murdered for protecting a woman from a fascist hit squad and the politicians are smirking trying to deny the evidence, saying no it...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 7, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Unexpectedly My neighbour opens her window for fresh salty air Along the lough the first ferry in daylight skims silently by A strange bird with brilliant markings soars by my window— I imagine a miracle that carries illness away. Tim Dwyer’s...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 6, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Postscript Dusk on the third day of the Buddhist feast of Obon and toro nagashi gets underway across Japan. Their shore leave over, the spirits of the dead are bid farewell until that time next year, when ritual grants them reprieve again. The...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 5, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Cup Sometimes words are the only thing that get you through, But not the words you think, not a word like love or hope those are imprecise. It’s more a word like window or fenêtre even curtain words that are more certain, that have weight on the tongue...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 4, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Candlelight We lit a candle for you that day in Sacre Coeur, under its white-flame dome as high as Paris could go and still be Paris, stood there awhile as the dark fire caught, aspiring to spirit, then turned as the dusk church rang with...
