I hold it close against my chest, an exotic emerald scarab, carapaced beetle of afflatus. A hard face hides my longanimity; I refuse to cringe from my jailer, use the crescent moon to filter noise of other sufferers within these walls and, when I retrieve the bowl of watery stew from the ledge below the […]
Category: Poems
Words like Paint
She paints the detail of a seed and from it roots and branches sprout and grow; blossoms open in a haze of breath and drift away; leaves uncurl, exhaling green, then turn to rust, fall and decay. She looks at fingers stained with words, her face reflected In the oily sheen, and sees the universe. […]
This Morning
In quickening light, quietude disperses with quisling ghosts of night. Outside the window, quitch grass quivers under quicksilver dew. A curious quirky bird sitting in the willow questions every word of every line I write, a quaint critic of whom I am quite fond. Kim M. Russell, 2017 My response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Saturday […]
Brutal as a Supernova
Don’t get too close. You are no super-human astronaut in the thrall of a brutal, brilliant cosmic flash. Keep away from powerful explosions brighter than the Milky Way. You know, it may not be a supernova. It may well be the freaky death throes of a star, torn apart by the tidal forces of a […]
Dogged by a Rose
The attar of a rose follows throughout the day, from its glass prison vase to the promise of a summer’s day, with touch of a satin cloak in the chill of spring, scented smoke curls into twilight before its petals close for the night. Kim M. Russell, 2017 Image found on ravindraandsons.com My response to […]
Anticipation
A project for the summer, you said, shaking the yellow curls on your head and, opening up your sweaty hand, offered me hard seeds with zebra bands. The teacher had given you a little sack and, like Jack’s mother, I was full of doubt, prepared to throw them out. Where would we grow sunflowers in […]
Protected: Feathers
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A Season of Giggles
all of a sudden, after muted, dreary days and dark drawn out nights, along comes spring, green buds bursting, catkins jiggling, birds singing, rivers giggling and bubbling, and filling up with fresh water, sparkling raindrops showering the dirty browns and greys of winter days Kim M. Russell, 2017 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille […]
Magic Tree
How good and magical it would be to grow my own mirabilis tree: apotropaic holly, hazel and rowan are all quite plausible. I’d abandon all my flaws and fears, in one bald gesture quell my tears; enter a new and different age as Lucida, white tree witch and sage. Kim M. Russell, 2017 Image found […]
The Edge of Dawn
I’m waking on the edge of dawn, shadow-lit and milky-grey, diffused by pigeon’s wings in sun as they ascend into the day. I’m clinging to the edge of dawn, a sparkling morning has arrived, and the magic’s only just begun: mist clears from heaven’s eye, leaves snowdrop-scented dew on lawn, and daffodil trumpets breathe a […]
writing in north norfolk 