The scent of winter’s mellowed by the yeasty aroma of your fingers kneading dough. Now foliage covers the ground, the year fades from brown to grey, drawing in with early dusk. My stomach’s hollow with the taste of frost as I bite into the first slice of home-baked toast spread with butter soft and yellow […]
Tag: Imaginary Garden with Real Toads
Jessie
Jessie was a teacher when a camera changed her life: while traditional women were content with being wives, she used her sharp eye and ability to hustle, ignoring constraints of corset and bustle, to seek the newsworthy and documentary. Instead of portraits of well-bred young women, she photographed a murder trial, slums and local prison. […]
Field Fire
stubble still crackles burnt fields quiver their dry voices whisper in devastation’s backwind blackened trees shiver letting fly blackened bark and leaves – a whirlwind of charcoal and dust Kim M. Russell, 26th November 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Poetics: Fire up that Creativity, also linked to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Tuesday […]
seizing day night moon stars cloud
with the arrival of frosts and rains a wintry light smears the sky I crunch leaves defiantly underfoot and breathe in pungent decay in daring to live I’m learning to die leafless oaks mock me, feigning death, and haws […]
Embers
once we spent all day in bed exploring without maps deep diving and emerging to kindle more desires lighting forest fires now we warm our hands on the embers of our fading skin basking in the afterglow Kim M. Russell, 20th November 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Tuesday Poetics: Desire and Sexuality in […]
Skyful of Hope
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 […]
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 […]
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 […]
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 […]
writing in north norfolk 