On a moist and mizzling day, my skin is pearled with gossamer mist, eyes wide with the expanse of grey above me, dotted with a scattering of distant birds. There is only emptiness and portents of winter in the yawning sky, and the days seem filled with loneliness. But when evening comes and the cloud […]
Category: Poems
Cardboard Harbour
This November one of my poems has been included in Volume 6, Chapter 1 of the Visual Verse Anthology. You can find it on page 42 or you can follow the link to ‘Cardboard Harbour‘.
And not forgetting the mist
If I should forget you in the mist of growing old I’ll remember to grasp that mist and not let go. I’ll weave the threads between my fingers, tie knots to help them linger just a little longer to remind me of the autumn mist along the coast and the first time we kissed. Kim […]
Becoming an Alien
blue veins pulse marbled mud skin has become reptilian breasts desiccated, juiceless buds amber hair is now dusty grey a heart that once soared now only thuds have I become an alien? Kim M. Russell, 15th November 2018 My response to Poets United Midweek Motif: Ode to Age Sumana is hosting this week with an […]
The Naked Touch
a stony coldness plucked from a beach fills my palm and overflows into each line and groove, pulling fingers into a claw – like a ring clasping a jewel sensitive tips trace dents and pocks knocked into it by waves and rocks pebbled acne smoothed by human caress, the stroke of skin wrinkles, calluses and […]
November Poppies
the war was over her childhood sweetheart didn’t return and those blood-red out-of-season poppies bloomed each year in November Kim M. Russell, 11th November 2018 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Fussy Little Forms: Cherita also linked to Poets United Poetry Pantry This weekend Marian brings us the cherita, a form created by […]
Eldritch
You wait for the third hoot of owl to flutter down the chimney but the only sound to gild the shadows is the silence of moonlight, broken only by the slap of feet across the kitchen floor. Through the back-door window, the wind waltzes with the willow, the one-two-three ghost steps of branches rustle on […]
Ebbing
Everything is ebbing: the sun our lives the leaves the grass the waves the mist our breaths on frosty mornings clouds and streams hopes and […]
Escape to Make-Believe
facts are cold with hard edges they keep me awake at night I crave the misty blur of make-believe and fiction when imagination slips between the covers I am in another world place or time and even though they were written by another the facts are all mine Kim M. Russell, 8th November 2018 My […]
My Erewhon
Somewhere there is a world of poetry, music and stories, a concert of words playing together. This world has turned: the coconut scent of gorse that burned in the haze of a summer morning has become frosty mist that creeps across fields and dims the glow of crimson berries. I am learning to live in […]
writing in north norfolk 