by Helen Ivory | Dec 3, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Snow’s Reset The roofs blend with the snow-laden clouds, borders softened so it’s only memory that differentiates my space from my neighbour’s. The wet smell confuses pets whose footprints meander over territorial edges, leave crazed patterns like...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 2, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Toughened Bark it takes a hefty blow sometimes to split you open a sharpened blade to split through years of tough old bark in the deeper channels feel how sap and resin thicken sap to carry nourishment keeping the woodiness supple resin to...
by Helen Ivory | Dec 1, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
A Space of Her Own A thirty-year-old woman walks into the wee sma’ hours of a December night. Snow is light on her hair and the back garden shrubs. It thickens. The sky turns white. She stands still. Her boots are coated, and the heels disappear....
by Kayleigh Jayshree | Nov 30, 2023 | Featured, Haibun, Tanka, Haiku & Haiga, Poetry
Heat Wave Reculver, August 2022 Whipped by flowers, the cliff begins to crack. Gulls blunder. The sea is skinned along sand blades. Towers of the imagined dead slide downwards in a grip that is harder than ice. Carolyn Oulton’s...
by Kayleigh Jayshree | Nov 29, 2023 | Featured, Poetry
Cremation morning after your cremation I wake no calls to make to stethoscopes or wreathes your bones no longer at any postcode watch black smoke clouds from neighbours’ chimneys ghosts how can your blood now be this urn of ash to lick my...
by Kayleigh Jayshree | Nov 28, 2023 | Featured, Haibun, Tanka, Haiku & Haiga, Poetry
Making Pierogi for My Mother A parcel of time the dough thinning to not quite conceal what it contains. Onions and potatoes root my floured fingers to the earth. We consume the ground we stand on. Sylvie Jane Lewis writes fiction and...
