by Kayleigh Jayshree | Dec 21, 2023 | Twelve Days of Christmas, Word & Image
Embrace after an Elmwood sculpture by Richard Lawrence His hands hook her waist as if pulling her from a flower. She closes her eyes in the little cave she finds under his chin. Let this blizzard bury them together, fill the footprints they won’t leave, his...
by Kayleigh Jayshree | Dec 21, 2023 | More Word & Image, Twelve Days of Christmas
When Joe Went Out Late to shut away the poultry after weeks of rain he knew where the pony was by the sound of its hooves sucking in the mud.Foxes still kill in downpours. Maybe they keep closer to the bones of the hedge or loiter below hollies, but...
by Kayleigh Jayshree | Dec 20, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Winter afternoon Charcoal darkness shades late afternoon, at the narrow edges of a chalk white snowfall. Beams slide from our single lamp through the pane onto soft-heaped mounds and frozen branches, turn what they touch to gold. Butter yellow. Crocus. Silence curls...
by Kayleigh Jayshree | Dec 19, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
I Have Memorised a Series of Statistics About Drowning after Benjamin Gucciardi When the bus hits the tunnel and the sun disappears I remember how the greatest risk-factor for drowning is being near water; then being near it drunk; then being near it young or male...
by Kayleigh Jayshree | Dec 18, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
I really don’t care about butterflies after Kim Addonizio (with a line from Nabokov) I don’t really care about butterflies, especially when they land in poems except when a Red Admiral gets lost in the great grey fields of the...
