Six years ago, in the fertile belly of pandemicspring, you were inside looking out. The street was quiet, no traffic, bar a delivery van,the driver masked and gloved, as were the single walkers, with or without dogs.Not even an aeroplane in the sky. The sun shone, flowers bloomed, but you wiltedin the stifled isolation of […]
Category: Poems
Doughty
Among globules of hail a single purpleflower stands resilient to the chill: a grape hyacinth shivering amongdrooping daffodils. They bloomed too soon, their yellow hurrahs loud and blatant,nodding and dancing in March winds. When the sun arrived, stirring our winter-frozen hearts, we peeled off a few layers, exposed skin like petals unfurling,only to feel the […]
Padraig’s Snake
What ifa green snakehas lived inthe green grass all these years, despite changes to climate, hidden in the richness of its own colour,even whenfamine struck? Emerald,undulating and coiling but never striking, living its best life while Paddy is celebrated – he didn’t do a proper job. Perhaps he knew,thought he’d test faith, spice up mythology […]
Apflod*
* Anglo-Saxon word for low tide. What impressed our ancestors about the rocky coast?Those wet rocks, barnacled and slick with weed?The immense power of waves that boastas they crash onto the shore, pounding screefrom cliffs to sand? And here I stand, watching gulls circle above;below, the colours of the wild sea are mixedas if a […]
Paradiddle
He plays a paradiddle on the drumswhile his lover sleeps. The room is dim, no heat at the ending of the day,although the weather has stayed dry. She really wanted to go for a walk,but he focused on his drumsticks, work took precedence, with a new world tour.She turned her back on him, a tear […]
non-sentences
less of the gloom a sunny afternoonno relentless windy roar no torrential downpourrandom non-sentences unwhole elevations of the soulre-arrangement of the mind’s furniture fragmented but purepeacefully ferment a magical momentconjuration of verse poetic conjuressmall comforts in lyrical spaces phrasal interfacesKim M. Russell, 3rd March 2026 Melissa is hosting the dVerse Poets Pub Tuesday Poetics this […]
Why?
Why do honeysuckle blooms spill their fragrance in the night? When morning sun creeps between slats in shutters, whyare dust motes ignited like fireworks? And later, the lens of day’s diminishing light freezes in the finalblaze of sunset, capturing a heron’s trailing gangly legs. Why does spring arrive in starts and stops like a dripping […]
The Non-Taste of Tea
On my lapI feel a warm cat,and in my handmy favourite cupof cranberry and raspberry. But there is nofruity burst on the tongue,just heat in my mouththat no longer spreadsto the cockles of my heart.No heightening of the senses.No calm. I hear myself breathe.I watch a poem bloom from the leaves. Kim M. Russell, 12th […]
Losing the Sounds of Spring
Vowels ploughed into other: opened ground.The mildest February for twenty yearsIs mist bands over furrows, a deep no soundVulnerable to distant gargling tractors. Seamus Heaney In the north, the Plough is ridden by the moonand frost continues to clench the earth.On this early morning walk there are no words,no lines from puffs of frozen […]
Stolen by the Breeze
On stone pillows, the dead sleep soundly.but the cicada’s seventeen sad syllablesare immediately stolen by the breeze. In the morning quiet of the cemetery,the haiku master writes a eulogy, whileon stone pillows, the dead sleep soundly. Lost in his task, he dips his brushin a pot of black ink, and he hears nothingbut the cicada’s […]
writing in north norfolk 