They kept vigil throughout the night, watching every movement, every breath, every flicker of dwindling candlelight, shadowy fingers of encroaching death, until the welcome morning light gently caressed the child’s fretting face and soothed away the livid, bright red of fever. All those missed heartbeats crashed together with relief at the sight of the child’s […]
Waiting for Sleep to Come
Each night I walk observing graves tended and untended, order and disorder. My head- stone is blotched with moss and lichen, my brief story blotted out. I shimmer in the silver moon- light, skim long grass and weeds dusted with dandelion and thistle seeds between lych gate and porch, where closely-mown grass scorched over summer. […]
Memories on the Breeze
More than one hundred and fifty years ago the garden belonged to someone else, a different family. Back then the trees were mere saplings, there was a neat path, fragrant roses, herb garden and vegetable patch. Life was simpler, with fewer gadgets, neighbours and expectations. It was quieter and slower paced. The inhabitants of the […]
My Dark Existence
I go to sleep and wake to a steady drip and wonder if it’s radioactive or pure and clear, like the streams I once knew. Above ground, no fresh water remains: no trace of rain or cloud or sky. There is just the twilight of this cave, the weak rays that find their way through […]
A Message from the Crows
She lingers by the lane, in the interregnum of autumn, an exhalation of green, watching glossy crows gather over stubbled fields of faded ochre, sewn delicately with bales and rustling with dragonflies. The end-of-day sun casts a murder of shadows, letters from above, the winged initials of her one true love. Kim M. Russell, 12th […]
Bird Brain
Her brain is a riot of knapweed on which twittering finches feed, keeping her awake at night and drowning out each thought when she rises. She longs to see a chestnut or a walnut tree with broad crown and dangling fruit, or bushes of plump blackberries, but she cannot leave these walls, cannot stretch her […]
Blackbird – quadrille for dVerse
Originally posted on Fmme writes poems:
My boy has always been a thief – well, not a thief exactly, more like a blackbird – fingers always there nicking a slice of apple or a crumb of cheese bright eyes, cocked head, and then away knowing the first thing stolen was my heart Another quadrille for…
