by Helen Ivory | Aug 17, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Revisited Trees after Harold Monro from Trees: lingering their period of decay in transitory forms. I One summer afternoon, you find yourself needing respite from the light and glossy sepia, from sweat and the rosacea. You retreat back to your...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 16, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Lightbulb Moment only now is it apparent how dishonouring a body is a crime why did this not imprint light up in me before that when in films lynching desecration has a price gives...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 15, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
At Aber Falls he felt nothing water sheeted past grottoes snakes of tributary lazed along below Yr Wyddfa a steam train sauntered by sun-sharp tufts of grass and black tears of earth upward away and all the land beside the train slipped down...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 14, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
the colour of I notice her because she doesn’t have a dog in an afternoon of dog-walkers and she’s wearing a yellow coat it looks like a good coat, I know that much maybe the yellowest coat ever sewn she’s alone, stamping along the river bank...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 13, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
A Vision after Sujata Bhatt the goddess of the library extends in cloth-bound curves along a lettered shelf sometimes her skirts are leather trimmed with gold, hems starred with colophons in other corners, she’s Make Do and Mend, relics held...
by Helen Ivory | Aug 11, 2025 | Featured, Poetry
Day of the Dead Granny introduced us to her parents, her uncle who moved to South Africa in 1912, the grandfather I never knew and his family. There were hundreds of them, all in period costume, each generation explained who they were, queued like at a...
