by Helen Ivory | Jul 6, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
No Show Poser un lapin is what I keep doing when I suggest we meet in the forest where the air is soft and the trees leafing as though we could walk side by side without touching as though you hadn’t entwined your feet round mine like roots...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 5, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
The Road to Witcombe Water As she passed the white hemlock weeds that crowded the verges beneath the wires from the Old Exchange, my mother left her footprints remembered by the gravel, dusty tracks by the lichgate, fifty years by the weathered,...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 4, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Sweeping out the Store Before the finality of his broom and the open door he pauses to study the trails toing and froing along the dusty sidewalk some crossing this threshold to buy supplies a pair or two don’t stop head on past to the saloon...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 3, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
The Shed Key has a Passive Voice The shed key was lost. The little one tells me it was sucked down a super massive black hole the middle one hopes we will find it by clawing through cat shit the biggest one emits a sound akin to the thump of a...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 2, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
Cold Case Their front door. What was the colour? Blue? Green? No, some things they could agree so it must have been white, no doubt a beaten white, needing a repaint. Because, after all this time, it’s the truth he wants, a nailing of fault, he...
by Helen Ivory | Jul 1, 2021 | Featured, Poetry
The printer needs paper We think we know what it means when this message appears, but do we really. Dutifully we search out the half-used packet, refill the over-complicated tray mechanism and carry on printing. But, in what seems like so short a...
