Gemini and Andromeda burn among a welter of stars: some are rising, others have fallen, they are the souls of mortal children. Remember to catch the falling stars, polish them until they sparkle and glisten, love them so much they won’t explode or disappear down a black hole. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to […]
Category: Poems
To My Unborn Grandson
Dearest boy, I am counting down the days and knitting. I am amazed at the butterflies of anticipation, imagining your eyes, mouth and nose, your tiny fingers and toes, the fresh-baked smell from the top of your head. I can’t wait to sing the songs I once sang to your mother, and the ones mine […]
Empty Hands
We enter this world with empty tiny hands, learn to grab a friendly finger, a proffered slice of apple, a toy or a mother’s warm hand. Soon we discover the pages of a book, the weight of a pebble or a pen in hand; and we find our hands are always open, ready to seize […]
Concepts and Metaphors
Under an overflowing ashtray sky, the train stops. Frost seethes on scrubby sidings, where naked trees stretch pale, angular limbs. The engine rumbles and we’re gliding towards the tunnel of night, on tracks lit up with winter aconite. Kim M, Russell, 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Poetics: Finding \Emotions and Concepts in Things, […]
The Possibility of Snow
Snow surprise transforms and lifts an otherwise grey February day, delighting children and the young at heart with play. But my hands are blue, my fingers burn, and my bones creak at every turn. The possibility of snow this week makes my insides churn. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille: […]
Winter and Summer Sedōka
a naked landscape of icy geometry black branches against grey sky swirling skirts of mist sharp scent of snow-covered pines words float in white clouds of breath riotous colour the ripening of cornfields splash of yellow sunflowers bees humming mantras from honeysuckle to rose blessing the summer garden Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to […]
Folding Rainbows
I watch each crystal raindrop that trickles down the window, a tear that lands with a dull plop in the blur of steamed-up glass. Inside each crystal raindrop is a spectrum folded in a bow, science captured in a full stop, a miracle that cannot be surpassed. Somewhere there’s a ray of hope and sunshine […]
Dusk
The vestigial tail of day disappears into clouds, a sky of dead dreams wrought in gold- spattered water of seas and lakes: that’s all it takes. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Sue Vincent’s Daily Echo Thursday photo prompt – Dusk #writephoto
Morning Conversations
You lift my hair like a cool breeze and kiss my ear; I’m the only one who’ll hear in the thundering silence of early morning. Everyone else is asleep or deaf to the poem that hums in my head, thrums like a guitar string, chatters like the sparrows in the hedgerows. Even when you trumpet, […]
I look for my voice…
and it sticks in my throat like a subterranean river in a concrete culvert it hisses like the breeze toothless in leafless trees or chevrons of goose music when what I desire is a speckle of thrush song to fly through open sky Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Poets United Midweek Motif: Voice
writing in north norfolk 