For days, the steady pounding rain drowned out the poetry that bubbled in my soul; my small voice hobbled, stuck in the mud of an old-fashioned October. But this morning, on the cusp of November, bright stained-glass shadows dappled the sodden grass, where unexpected sun illuminated the willow in the garden disrobing yellow leaves before […]
Tag: Kerry says
Losing the Thread
When a seamstress loses the thread, she becomes thorny: stitches tighten in her gut and snakes breed in her very soul, notwithstanding itches in her fingers from tiny hollow hairs, steeped in a poison that bewitches and catches her unawares. All fingers and thumbs, and nettled by unforeseen hitches, she waits for serenity and calm. […]
Rain
These curtains so accurately drawn in water on my windowpane remind me of briny tears, the way they ran in perfect vertical lines down the misty windscreen with the broken windscreen wiper that day on the storm tossed seafront. Even the urchin seagulls hugged the gritty beach. Who knew that distance could hurt so much? […]
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 […]
Under the Eye of the Clock
Springtime in Paris is here again and all along the banks of the Seine artists are unpacking chalks and oils, canvases, water colours, and easels, ignored by preoccupied passers-by and unaware of the all-seeing eye of the Académie Française clock. Above every one of its ticks and tocks, it’s listening for foreign impurity on the […]
writing in north norfolk 