I never found outwhy my parents chose my name,after a famous book by Kipling,or a glamorous actress of the 1950s,but all through childhoodfriends and family added letters,even whole syllables. Did they think it made my ownthree letters more substantial? Did they think it was cute or funnyto call me Kimmy, Kimbo or Kimberley? When I […]
The Magic of Digging
The soil is dark and damp from rain,the spade lifts it easily, over again—it’s prestidigitation! Hey presto, a robin spots a worm,watches as it wriggles and squirmson the soil-encrusted blade and then swoops in to gobble it down—that’s prestidigitation! Kim M. Russell, 20th April 2026 It’s Monday and, at the dVerse Poets Pub, time for […]
Hares
In March or April, between the trees, ears like streamers in the breeze, striding with their long legs in enigmatic zig-zags, sparring and boxing as they go, ardent bucks and exhausted does. They’re creatures of air, spirits of spring, you say,shadowy bookends to the working day. But in in a late summer light circus, when […]
In My Grandparents’ Garden
Love in a mist made me pause in perplexityat the blueness of its petalsand its name, Nigella— who was sheto give her name to such beauty?I delighted in the saucer-shaped flowersa ruff of feathery foliage round their throats,which became pretty seeds to collectin a used vellum airmail envelope,ready to plant next year. Peony pink peonyopened […]
Betrayal
She waits in the hotel vestibule,a book in one hand, trying to stay cool,fur coat draped over the other,one eye on the hotel elevator. She doesn’t want to be here so late,all she can do is sit and wait,watching couples drink and flirtwhile all she knows is that love hurts. When the elevator opens, she […]
Shining – a golden shovel
I remember whenI first saw you,how fragile you were,and so small,bundled up in yourtoo big babygrow. I held you, cuppedin both palms. I knew that for eachbreath you took I heldmine alittle longer, a candleworthof breath, like being underwater, feeling air trickle through thepores of my skin,just enoughto make me feel as lightas you. I […]
Following the Brush
I sweep the floor with an old broom, it still does the job, collects crumbs and dust, pushes the pile of detritus from one placeto another, and with it my thoughts a poem forminglike the pile of dust,sometimes caught up in the brush and then escaping.Our cat Luna pokes her head round the door; she’s […]
Norfolk Trees
They cling to flat horizons, bent and wizenedby the north wind’s blast, sculpted intogiants, witches, hobgoblins and dragons. Here and there they come together,in woods, copses and swathes of ancient forest,huddling against the weather. Once they commanded the landscape,a place to hide, to sleep, to love:broad-leaved warriors that escaped Bronze Age deforestation, Norfolk trees—if they […]
Where Does Love Go
Did it evaporatewith the last remaining traces of his scent or with the smoke from the cigarette,the last from the crushed packet he left behind? She couldn’t stomach breakfast,and there were hours to cross until the island of lunch, and a rainy afternoon to get through,the rest of the day with only a stormcock for […]
In a Driverless Taxi
In a driverless taxi there’s no rhythm,no local undertone or foreign thrum,no musicality of another human voicediscussing current news and political choice. On the dashboard there’s nothing personal,no question about supporting Spurs or Arsenal,no background, family or wife:the invisible driver doesn’t have a life. There’s no poetry or narrative in driverless,no words, no story; they […]
writing in north norfolk 