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 […]
Day: April 29, 2018
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 […]
writing in north norfolk 