by Helen Ivory | Nov 15, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
One For The Crow A Tuesday morning in November out on the street taking in the bins. As a flight of crows flashed past the street lights went out. My neighbour, very good at counting, said it was a coincidence, but it looked as if the crows put...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 14, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Becoming Hedgehog (i) Noises are louder now: the kesh of tyres on tarmac slicked with leaves. Rain’s drumming thunder. My other self pulls at me, pricks from inside. Limbs compress, ribs tighten around starved lungs. I furl; I shrink, a leaf about...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 13, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
My Brother Teaches Me How To Open And Close A Door When you’ve used one handle to open the door, use the other handle to close it. That way the draft from the open window won’t whip it closed and wake everyone up. Even now he still teaches me –...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 12, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Notes after a walk: a tree that had caught its own fallen limb She hadn’t lost a child but if she had she imagined it would be like that. To hear footsteps running up behind you, and to turn around and no one there. To see a crow gliding under the...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 11, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Death of an autistic war child I was born on the sleeves of an immigrant father whispered God into my ear My tears were folded in muslin Stars stayed in drone-moan sky I was a difficult birth early as the Thrush Freckled as the bullet ridden...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 10, 2025 | Featured, Haibun, Tanka, Haiku & Haiga, Poetry
calm river again, his fishing line caught on a tree * raindrops slide down the window death in the family * thick clouds snowflakes dot my dog’s fur * breaking clouds flower petals pasted to my windshield * Christmas dinner with Mom’s new...
