by Helen Ivory | Apr 4, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
The Snow There’s no need to talk about oneself. What’s real is real all over: a sediment of cold — pure cold — is salutary to the warmth, which thought it had the say. You little enzyme-hungry bits and pieces, life-shoots & insects, winding...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 3, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
You Are Now Entering Antarctica When the glacier breaks, we’re sitting down to eat dinner. A large piece of ice beginning the slow move South puts me on edge, evolutionarily speaking. My skin, already white, feels like it’s shimmering like the...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 2, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Being a Mother I look back and ask, how did we get by? Was there too much angling after exactness? Did I promise you something and fail? Unfathomable, the way things become, like winter, a stretch of bare garden. Gone the violets, the brittle...
by Helen Ivory | Apr 1, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
The Trickster Talks of her Tears I wake and, for no reason other than life itself, my face feels like it’s made of tears, and they creep along the insides of my eyelids, like rain shifts across a windscreen at speed, but somehow they’re only ghosts of...
by Helen Ivory | Mar 21, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
If I was that woman If I was that woman. If I was that woman in the big house with the tall windows like eyes staring across open farmland where the late afternoon sunset glazes the manicure of her lashes. If I was that woman whose Italian...
