I used to love walking with our dog, Jasper. He was a cross-breed Jack Russell and the funniest, most inquisitive dog I’ve ever known. He died on 10th March ten years ago. He was my reason for walking three times a day: in the morning before work, again in the afternoon, and a short walk […]
Month: April 2018
Verbing an Anthophila
I found the first one of spring on my windowsill, just bee-ing, when it should have been meadowing with a swarm, oceaning a roar, pollening and sweetnessing with honeyed kissing. Instead, it’s dead, Just bee-ing. Kim M. Russell, 30th April 2018 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Thirty poems in April: a final […]
Lingering day…
is painted in pointillist shadows, light fades with the last echoes of birdsong and clings to moon and stars. Lingering day, when owls skim, swoop, dodge in and out of branches not yet embellished with blossom or leaves but pregnant with promise. Kim M. Russell, 29th April 2018 My response to The Poetry School […]
Almost there
A saddle-worn cowboy on the road hears the promise of amber bourbon in the strains of a lonesome tune. He slaps a dusty faded Stetson against his aching thigh and wipes the grit from his eye. There’s an arduous ache in the back of his throat that begs for that golden liquid burn. His swollen […]
Uncubing Tesseract
A triplet of notes, a single wavering flame echoed by another in a gust of melody. Hush of voice unweathered modulates light and promise tethered by emotional tourniquet until the song spreads wings and skips on time changes like glottal stops. The volume dies, almost to a whisper, and a syncopated drum contains the pressure […]
I Remember Watching Soldier Blue
I remember watching Soldier Blue, under age, naive, not sure what the film was about back then in early nineteen seventy two. At first, I thought it was a romantic cowboy flick, as I was watching Soldier Blue. The landscape was not like ours; Sand Creek had enormous mountains, gentle plains, a sky of blue […]
One brief moment
It vanished in a whorl of icy bubbles, a kingfisher, the first one of the spring. It drew a line through early morning mist, it punctuated silence of the pond with splash and sparkle – then it disappeared. I waited by the river every day, my soles imprinted on the dew-soaked grass, to catch a […]
Rubai of Light
The moon is a balloon that fills the night which bursts with stars and constellations bright, reminding late night lovers of the dawn whose fingers shatter dreams with early light. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Meeting the Bar: Variations on the Rubaiyat This week our host for Meeting the Bar […]
Summer
Forest shadows are deepening, roses are in bloom and spring is a forgotten dream. Today is a slip of tan sand, a sliver of salt marsh and the sea, slow as wrinkling oil, bobs boats, dappling the honey-hued harbour with licks of salt to mark the tide and fresh puddles on the quay-side. Kim M. […]
Five
five fingers on each hand five finger exercise spans hard piano keys to play her favourite tune chocolate finger biscuits licking each finger clean a wave of fingers wavering as she walks away Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads NaPoWriMo A list with a twist Izy’s our host today […]
writing in north norfolk 