by Helen Ivory | Jun 11, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Fortuna rolls the dice in Tumahole Free State, South Africa I have never seen a baby so tiny outside a womb. You hold her jigsaw of bones in a blanket, afraid to scatter the pieces in case they’d sail like seeds onto the road. A dung beetle rolls...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 10, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
The Longhouse The Renault rocks left to right, waddles up an unmade road, squeezes through the trees. Now I see it – a low-slung, stocky, lengthy, extended longère and, at right angles, ancient barns remodelled with stone, glass, wood. My...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 9, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
I’m looking through a lattice of magnolia not yet ready to blow open its thousand furring buds— every year the same urgency—same innocence— on an anniversary serious enough for champagne and a room with mullioned windows—the view outside is...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 8, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Lesley Graham lives in Bordeaux where she is a lecturer at the university. She is originally from Scotland and started writing poetry relatively recently.
by Helen Ivory | Jun 7, 2024 | Featured, Poetry
Red Sky in the Morning Red sky at night, shepherd’s delight, Red sky in the morning, shepherd’s warning. Country proverb Our family does weddings. When Rosalie married, first time round, and the cars assembled for the drive, it was in fact a...
by Helen Ivory | Jun 6, 2024 | Featured, Prose
The Glass Door Before I knew it, I was crying in front of my entire dance class. Thirty women and two men in neon active wear, staring at me as I tried to explain why I was late. ‘Are you okay?’ a woman with braids asked. ‘The glass door hit me,’...
