Under the eye of the station clock she begins to pace, scans for a familiar face, eyes the pigeons pecking at breakfast croissant crumbs demolished at her feet. Too early or too eager, embarrassed when she finally sees him in the surge of crowd. Kim M. Russell, 22nd October 2018 My response to dVerse Poets […]
Category: Quadrilles
Reflections on Rotten
Lemon brashness softens and blooms into the livid greens and blues of a mouldy citrus bruise. Once it was firm and glossy, oiled with fruity essence; it has become its own reflection, silently exhaling spores that dance a tango with a fading summer scent. Kim M. Russell, 16th October 2018 My response to dVerse Poets […]
Sharing
Our cats are generous, they really like to share, filling the house with litter smells and their moulted hair. The yuckiest thing they share with us is left outside the house: the bloody feathers of a bird or the insides of a chewed-up mouse. Kim M. Russell, 8th October 2018 My response to dVerse Poets […]
Friendly Harbour
After months at sea, I find I’m still afloat. In the distance, I can see fishermen’s huts and friendly boats limping along the unforgiving coast. I see the shore, a busy harbour crowded with twinkling lights, welcoming on such a night, guiding me home. Kim M. Russell, 24th September 2018 My response to dVerse Poets […]
Quick
How quickly time passes, cuts to the quick of a quick lifetime of the quick and the dead, fills us with dread. Only the quick understand that, although our ashes and dust filter back into the earth, our souls dance on in the universe. Kim M. Russell, 10th September 2018 My response to dVerse Poets […]
Mole
“The poetry of the earth is never dead.” John Keats the earth is baked the grass long gone from fissured fields earth trickles through my fingers in shades […]
Boxing Hares
I spotted them between the trees, ears like streamers in the breeze, striding with their long legs in enigmatic zig-zags to an impromptu arena of fresh grass, two mad March hares: an ardent buck boxed around the ears by an exhausted doe, surprisingly fierce. My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille: Thinkin’ Inside the Box […]
Seabirds
Sullen and slate-grey, the sky lights up slowly, in its own good time, rinsed with lemon luminescence, a bleached handkerchief embroidered with distant gulls. Smaller seabirds, snatched by the polar wind, flutter like leaves, tumbling acrobats that land and curtsey on salt encrusted rocks. Kim M. Russell, 2017 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Quadrille: […]
writing in north norfolk 