I forgive the winter darkness that carries deep within the unspoken promise of the electricity of spring. Every dancing snowflake, each frost-muted twig, stows trickles of bird song, brightly budding sprigs of snowdrops, bluebells, cowslips and wood anemones, and bursts of fragrant blossom in hedgerows and the trees. Kim M. Russell, 23rd October 2019 My […]
Category: Poems
Through the Eyes of a Child
We watch a big blue tractor rumble by, his small body in my arms, straining to see more. Wide eyes spot two cock pheasants down by the gate, he can’t wait; his small hand grabs his mother’s and they’re off on a hunt, and find pheasants, swans, horses and boats – and chickens! We visit […]
Missing the Point
From mid-autumn until the end of winter, each day begins and ends with night, not morning’s gentle lightening or splinter of tea-time twilight, although sunset still kaleidoscopes in clear October skies. We live from day to day: wake up, rise and read about incessant lies over the rim of a tea or coffee cup. Then […]
Portrait in Chalk and Charcoal
He leans into the pavement, close enough to kiss the cold hardness of it, squinting through a dusting of charcoal. There’s a smear on his cheek that points to his ear, red with cold. He has coalminer’s fingers and a cough that rattles his ribs. The jacket across his shoulders has seen better days, but […]
Billie on a Sunday Morning
It’s a quarter past six on a Sunday morning. October darkness sits heavy as a blanket, waiting for first light to gently lift it. Strains of Billie curl into a hug like raspberry flavoured steam from my mug of tea. The cats have been fed, husband is tucked up in bed, I’m alone with Billie, […]
On the Other Side of the River…
away from city sounds and lights a spectral owl waits for the untethering of the moon. Moored with the boats, she floats, horns above water, her light spilling into a river speckled with fishy stars, anticipating her ballooning release once inky darkness floods the city’s streets and bars, extinguishes the lights of buses and cars. […]
Truth
Like me, said the albino magpie with machine-gun-like chatter, truth isn’t always black and white, and he took off from the tree, flying free. Kim M. Russell, 3rd October 2019 My response to Poets United Midweek Motif: Truth Susan is back for the Midweek Motif, honouring Gandhi’s birthday with the truth. She has taken a […]
