‘For the listener, who listens in the snow, And, nothing himself, beholds nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.’ Wallace Stevens It started with a silent flake, a branched crystal, not unlike a flower or a tree, or the paper doily cut-outs grandma used to make. It started with a snowflake, but […]
Tag: dverse Poets Pub
Fresh Flow
I have fresh longing to go for a walk by the river, where water flows like feathers, […]
Pigs and Pixels
In this February’s issue of Visual Verse, the image is a surprising one, especially for those of us who like piglets. It’s by Tom or Judy Moore, a drawing rather than a photograph, and it was a bit of a challenge to write a poem in the given hour. My poem is on page 16. […]
I am grey
shadows in snowy woods facets of crisp ice the flit of invisible birds smoke and skeletal trees against ashen skies the light that draws a thin line across the horizon the gentle grey of a heron Kim M. Russell, 16th February 2021 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Poetics: True Colours? Mish is back for […]
An Audience of Ghosts
Stained glass in the ornate dome is splintered by a single ray of sun, forming ghosts in the hippodrome, derelict music hall of burlesque fun. The eerie spotlight pans a vacant stage, traces phantom footprints in the dust, picks out shambolic sheen of bygone age, theatrical fixtures gilded with rust. Vacant seats echo with silent […]
Dewy Mushrooms
A dewy forest of moons,a multitude of mushrooms,soaks in the weight of dawn. It’s snowing spore confetti,cheerful colour splashes:crimson, ochre, cream and rust. Puffballs and parasols,ink caps and champignons,frilly-gilled and plump of flesh, a festival of fungi sprouting earthy fresh. Kim M. Russell, 9th February 2021 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Poetics: Let’s have […]
Topiary
Trees whisper wintry secrets in the bare bones of their topiary, rubbing limbs with knurly suppleness, embracing silhouettes in their lacy canopy, growing side by side, content in their long marriage of species, a symphony of bark and knots, of sap and long-awaited buds. Kim M. Russell, 8th February 2021 My response to dVerse Poets […]
Reheating a Cold War
Red geraniums rust in September rain and sparrows splash in puddles again. In summer’s hinterland, something is stirring leaves already yellow, their weariness showing, tattered and brittle, counting years with their falling. But still trees find safety in numbers, flourishing in ancient copses, forests and woods, growing together for the common good while men train […]
Welcome Back
I read recently that Britain’s largest bird of prey, the white-tailed eagle, is back in England after 240 years; it’s hard to believe that they were once a common sight here in southern England, as they were hunted to extinction. Apparently, the last one seen was in 1780 at Culver Cliff on the Isle of […]
Candlemas Vow
In the moody half-lightof the Imbolc landscapebetween birch, ash and oak,there’s an unspoken oath. Brassy hazel catkins shimmer,lemony lamb’s tail buds glimmer,and there’s a gleam in Candlemasbells’ nodding waxen flowers. Everywhere, for the first timethis year, is the vow that temperatures will climband imbue everythingwith the welcome scent of spring. Kim M. Russell, 1st February […]
writing in north norfolk 