by Helen Ivory | Jul 18, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Basic Anthropology You liked to break trees, one dry branch at a time, and test your full weight against the centuries inside. When the tree was gone, you longed for witnesses to understand your regret. You liked to burn books in a random sequence...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 17, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Eight hundred and four full moons I do not – cannot – quite recall How many full moons I actually have or haven’t seen, How many I have missed, So intent on the business of this world, Its instants and circumstances. Put it like this: I only...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 14, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Lord, grant me… On hot days, the back door stands open to the garden, to sudden wing flurries, sparrow chit-chat. By evening there are bluebottles upstairs, stupidly circling, banging themselves against the place the light comes from. I have been...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 12, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
The Fair Leaves Town The hum of early traffic resonates where skeletal rides seek egress on lorries bound for the next town, and the road opens like a wound, becomes a thoroughfare again. We view the marketplace as we would a post-festive room,...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 11, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Mace in Her Pocket She is used to walking unafraid of the echo off her heeled steps, moving through the parking lot in a still-dark, early morning hour. Mace in her pocket, fur coat on her back, fist wrapped around her keys, she takes a breath...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 10, 2023 | Featured, Haibun, Tanka, Haiku & Haiga, Poetry
Two Haiku green spruce cone a globe of sap slips below the horizon * bloom of jellyfish a thousand beach umbrellas open close Joshua St. Claire is an accountant who works as a financial director for a large non-profit in...
