Your cool breezeis a breaththat lifts my hair, kisses my ear. I’m the only onewho’ll hear your voicein the thundering silenceof this April dawn. Everyone else is asleep,deaf to the poemthat hums in my head,thrums like a guitar string. I interpret your Morse codeof raindrops, transcribeyour windy whisper into words, recording our early morning conversation. […]
Tag: April
At last
April has arrived and we can open windows,breathe in grass-green scent and offer our skinto the sun. Daily walks are more comfortable,less chance of slipping; still we go slowly, handin hand, step to step, grinning at yellow facesof daffodils and primroses frilling up the verges.The piebald horse is at the top of the paddock.He shoves […]
Fickle
April is a fickle month: she trips a teetering path through trees mad with ticking, tuneful birds, waking butterflies and bees. She dodges scattered earth and rocks behind a plough; sprinkles tender leaves and shoots with showers; spreads green foam through winter’s mud and, in lengthening evening hours, plays with last thrills of light. Kim […]
April Morning
The morning’s dust-tongued with short-lived frost and seabirds moon-blown from the coast compete with bell-voiced wood pigeons. These early muffle-toed strolls are full of promise: spring winds roar in a leaf-foamed coppice and all the quiet moments in between, while hare-heeled boots touch damp earth with a kiss. No dark-vowelled dreams could have predicted this […]
Demented April
She embroiders blossom on a blackthorn’s bladed barbs, pricking fingers frozen into claws her face wet with spit and spindrift of words that writhe like water in a weir. Language is drowned by the thunder of gushing water in her ears. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads NaPoWriMo: An […]
writing in north norfolk 