The Perfume of Peonies

She raises the pink peonies, cool,damp leaves and petals a balmto her industrious fingers. Those dual-headed, blowsy globes grasped in her palmexude a fruity wisp of sweetnessthat makes her life much easier to bear.No customers notice the neatnessof her blouse, the pretty headscarf that she wearsto cover the cuts and bruises of her husband’s violence.She […]

Walkabout

It seems as if I have walked foreverthrough this life, on this pathfrom birth to death. Sometimes I have walked togetherwith friends and family,sometimes alone. Often the path meandered,for a while it took me off course,past woodland, pasture and meadow,past sheep, cow and horse. Now often on my walkaboutI sit down to ponder beneath a […]

Tourniquet

A ripple of notes, a wavering flame,echoed in a gust of melody, is reclaimed. A hushed, unweathered voice modulateslike light tethered by an emotional tourniquet until the song spreads wings and skipson time changes like glottal stops. The volume dies, almost to a whisper,syncopated drum containing the pressure until low-tuned bass stringscrank up the volume […]

whole lot of sparkles

sparkle on, twigs in a dazzle of rimesparkle on, bouquets of drooping iciclessparkle on, clocks in a tick-tock of timesparkle on, light off the bells of bicycles sparkle on, salt of retreating tidessparkle on, iridescent starlingssparkle on, diamonds worn by bridessparkle on, smiles in the eyes of my darlings sparkle on, vanity in a room […]

A Gift of British Weather

CUSTARD WIND A cold, north-easterly has blown my Christmas pudding cold. MOOR-GALLOP Emily Brontë runs from a sudden squall on the moors. ROKE The fog is so thick even the trees can’t see each other. DINDEREX A thunder-axe of lightning bolts across the countryside. RAINING OLD WOMEN AND STICKS The nosy old neighbour watches heavy […]

The Elusiveness of Shadows

Shadows are not concreteyet they creep beneath your feet. You can see but you can’t hearthem, and they always disappear. In the summer, they often lingerlike gunpowder from cannon-fire. Though short-lived, shadows strollinto infinity together with your soul. Kim M. Russell, 10th April 2024 It’s 10th April and we are one-third of the way through […]

History Box

My box is made of cardboard,the largest of a trio I boughtfor myself: pale blue, adornedwith simple flowers, it hasa metal handle, and a whiteribbon to stop the lid from closingwhen I explore what’s inside.It’s a practical box. In my box are imagesin sepia, monochromeand colour, higgledy-piggledy,no order, like life. Theychronicle a family of fivegenerations […]

Leda’s Lament

I used to love the haunting songof low-flying swans, their trumpetinga welcome herald of spring,their wingbeats a gentle breath passing overhead. Now, they remind me of the threatof his yellow beak and wingsbeating me into submission. I wish I could fly away and hide my conditionuntil I become a mother,when I will no longer fear […]

The Frustration of the Teacher, the Magpie and the Ocean

Frustrationsaid the teacheris a class of geniuseswith fingers tappingon mobile phoneswhile I getno response Frustrationsaid the magpieis being an extraordinaryordinary thing of naturebut the only interest I getis when I perchon a horse’s head Frustrationsaid the oceanis using my stomach-churning powerto pick bits of a wreckedboat out of the blackfangs of rocks Kim M. Russell, […]