by Helen Ivory | Nov 14, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
What Matters Barbara Hepworth on politics After a long time with persistent, small movements, each one following the effects of the last, the shape becomes clearer, large chunks fall away, air is let into stone. Further in, planes flatten out,...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 13, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Hauntings 1 After the funeral, the coughs continued. 2 Care homes regain life at night. 3 Wait. The morgue will reopen soon. 4 They came asking for more starch. 5 For them, lockdown has just begun. 6 He came back. “Forgot the mask”. 7 Sorry for...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 11, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Rehoboth Bay after Jane Kenyon I was walking on the dock— the kind of activity I go out of town to do— where waterfowl float below with their young. My wife and I fell behind the laughter barreling toward the shore end and at that moment, we heard...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 10, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Snow Fall Post operatively he is unable to drive when suddenly snow fills the street. It’s only ten minutes to walk back home. ‘Not in these shoes,’ he says, ‘not in this jacket.’ Why I agree I don’t know for the snow makes a toy of the wheel in...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 9, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
the hard animal of her body the woman next to me shows me her bones she delves into her bag and pulls them out to show me the strongest and how it was broken you know like a tree she says when they cut it like this and she lifts her hand at the...
by Helen Ivory | Nov 8, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Religious Tack When you turned to God I turned away and in some sort of protest, a double-edged olive branch, I started a collection. Small at first: statues from catholic shrines, rude pewter pilgrims’ badges light-up Madonnas. A dome of the rock...
