Spring stalled in her tracks, silencing birds, wasting late-flowering catkins and shrivelling bramble leaves. As she bartered for a little […]
Tag: Midweek Motif
Summer
Forest shadows are deepening, roses are in bloom and spring is a forgotten dream. Today is a slip of tan sand, a sliver of salt marsh and the sea, slow as wrinkling oil, bobs boats, dappling the honey-hued harbour with licks of salt to mark the tide and fresh puddles on the quay-side. Kim M. […]
An Ode to Heath Robinson
Steam-powered with boilers and kettles heated by spirit lamps and candles, with tangled pulleys of knotted string, they survive the incessant tinkering of overall-clad bespectacled men who hope their inventions will work now and then, refreshing stale scones and removing warts, throwing water over neighbourhood cats, complicating the simplest technique – a genius of the […]
Kaleidoscope Vision
her eyes are broken lozenges of shifting glass patterns of rainbows Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Poets United Midweek Motif: Vision
The Origins of a Poem
inky streak of cloud in peripheral vision raindrop of a thought Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Poets United Midweek Motif: Beginnings Susan has given us a whole range of images, saying and poems to help us ponder the question of ‘how to begin’, which she says has generated books upon books in every […]
Family Treasure
In the snapshot, you are smiling, the great uncle I knew for only a few years; yet I keep your photographs, nineteen-thirties monochrome, together with Neptune’s and Davy Jones’ endorsement of your initiation into the solemn mysteries of the deep. Seven years to the day before my mother’s birth, you sat on a boat bound […]
Bluebell Wood
Beech trees are coming into leaf, upper limbs foaming with translucent green leaves, softly crimped; all the spaces in between are dusted with bluebells and wood anemones. Lazuline seeps through branches, pools and floods: memories of childhood’s chimeless campanology and carpets of sky. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Poets United Midweek Motif ~ […]
Shepherd’s Warning
Early this morning the sky screamed at me a red warning that echoed off branches and filled the garden with icy chill so I filled my lungs with daybreak and screamed back. Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Poets United Midweek Motif ~ Scream Sumana asks us if we have ever come to that […]
Empty Hands
We enter this world with empty tiny hands, learn to grab a friendly finger, a proffered slice of apple, a toy or a mother’s warm hand. Soon we discover the pages of a book, the weight of a pebble or a pen in hand; and we find our hands are always open, ready to seize […]
I look for my voice…
and it sticks in my throat like a subterranean river in a concrete culvert it hisses like the breeze toothless in leafless trees or chevrons of goose music when what I desire is a speckle of thrush song to fly through open sky Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Poets United Midweek Motif: Voice
writing in north norfolk 