by Helen Ivory | Oct 3, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Numinous You see, there is this fold, and this ridge, and this sweet hood, and this little shiny popping button, and this smooth silver-glistening, and this depth, and deep, deep within, there is something that touches you back. Math...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 2, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
egg her first was almost translucent light brown with dark freckles laid in the pot of a dying nasturtium a virgin birth in a pile of hay dropped and abandoned like it was nothing special Geraldine Stoneham lives in South Australia...
by Helen Ivory | Oct 1, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
How Would You Draw a Bear? after Jen Campbell Grass seeds planted in doormat fur, fish scales stiff between tree-root teeth and the cave-deep noise of animal-sleep. Still, how would you know it for a bear? How would I? You would call it bear, sure...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 20, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Summer’s End Today I tipped the packet of coffee into the cafetiere instead of the tin. Caught myself in time, didn’t pour water in. I’ve started to write notes to myself: Shut bathroom window. Lock back door. Yesterday at the bank I couldn’t...
by Helen Ivory | Sep 19, 2026 | Featured, Poetry
Summers in black Who’s idea was it? I think his, as I’d started wearing everything from Oxfam. Among my finds collarless shirts. There was I and my clique, ourselves fearfully fresh, seeking out lived-in things, clothing with more history than us....
