by Helen Ivory | Aug 11, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
The calling You’re sitting in the half-light, in a cavern scoured from limestone, on a boulder by an underground stream. Behind: a dark tunnel, too narrow to crawl through, where water flows from, cool and clear. Ahead: heaped debris, the walls of...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 9, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
The sisters of stone wend their way in a line one after another the sisters of stone walk across the hollow lake quieten their legs on the dry drowned bridge listening they prayer their fingertips around the cupped whim stones that hold neither...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 8, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Proposal Oh yes, I can still rise with the best of them, sink with the worst. I can play my violin outside your door as easily as spit on your roses. How would you like your jazz? Perfectly syncopated or horribly atonal? I got the sun in the...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 4, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Arpeggio I lie awake. Night presses down my eyes. A blackbird’s song scythes through the gloom, its silver corkscrew ripple reminding me the days are longer now. Susan Castillo Street is Harriet Beecher Stowe Professor Emerita,...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 3, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
The Fisherman King A man who lived alone worked in the city. One day, as he left the building, he heard a kkss underfoot. He looked down. He’d stepped on a crisp.. He sniffed. Cheese and onion. He ignored it and walked on. As he left the coffee...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 2, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Pink Legs I want to be a bird she says Which one? I don’t know A small one With a strong voice One that likes to sing on summer afternoons Long nostalgic notes No, a single long nostalgic note, like sweeeeeeeeeeee That ends in a question...
