The blackbirds declarethem an unlikely pair:the quince tree with herhunchback of a trunkand gnarly branchesand the ivy-covered plum,all winter silhouetted againsta cloudy sky. Now blossomcrowns them with haloes of whiteblessed with spring sunlight. Kim M. Russell, 31st March 2021 My response to Poets and Storytellers United Weekly Scribblings #63: Trees Rommy says that one of […]

Soap Opera

The machine rumbles,bubbles with the scentof her favourite detergent,lending lightness to the drudgery,the air soap-shimmeryin a slant of spring sun. He sits on the oppositebench in the launderettewatching his washing tumblein the drier with a syncopatedrhythm, the clunk and clickof buttons and zips. The drier stops.She smiles, handshim a basket,into which he dropseach item. All […]


All the waves in the worldcrash on canopiesof trees,words lift from their leaves,the air a drenchof citrusand jasmineamid the tumult storm,a slow spring tideof rising seasin sacred landscapes,heard in songs of ghosts. Kim M. Russell (and Brendan) , 29th March 2021 My response to earthweal weekly challenge: Turning Points (Chthulucene Squiggles) Brendan has presented us […]

Snow Globe Episode 3

Once they landed in New York, everything became a blur of bright lights, yellow taxis and tall buildings. Rosanna spent a few days recovering from nauseating jet lag and then launched herself into a busy life of high-profile publishing. Her new employer’s offices took up the whole of the top two floors of a skyscraper […]


We circle each other,sun and moon, feelthe pull and pushof our magnetic fields.At different times of day,one of us yields or breaks away,planets or stars in our own right,creating our own light,halos of independence,before we collide,take up the danceagain, and we circle each other. Kim M. Russell, 24th March 2021 My response to dVerse Poets […]

A Painter Without a Brush

Without a brush,how could a painter fleshout spectral fingers of left-over snow,dab them with early sun’s glow,or stroke lines of slender hazel treesablaze with catkins, golden with bees? And yet, there they are, scrapedas if they had escapedfrom canvas, pressedand dragged, distressedand burningcapturingevery summer, autumn, winter, spring,all life erupting. Kim M. Russell, 23rd March 2021 […]

French Knots of Purple Heather

Spring French-knots the moorswith purple among rusted ferns,embroidering the tapestryof senses as the season turns,growing like a melody that slidesinto the senses on tumbling notes of birdsand the scattering of morning lightknotted together by a poet’s words. Kim M. Russell, 22nd March 2021 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille: Knot Mish is back this […]

North Norfolk Trees

They cling to flat horizonsonly to be bent and wizened by the north wind’s blastthat steams in from the coast. It sculpts them into humps and twiststhat loom from drifting sea mists as giants, witches and hobgoblins,wild animals and dragons. Here and there they come together,huddling against the weather, hedgerows, small woods, copsesand swathes of […]


Originally posted on writing in north norfolk:
we are aerial?????????????? we are swifts????????????????????????????? asleep on the wing???????????????????????????????????????????? or rising sooty-brown????????????????????????????? to black against the sky?????????????? wings like scythesand all summer long we fly?????????????? until the long days pass????????????????????????????? African heat and grass???????????????????????????????????????????? call like drums and rattles????????????????? ??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????and we fly Kim M. Russell, 8th March…