It’s a quarter past six on a Sunday morning. October darkness sits heavy as a blanket, waiting for first light to gently lift it. Strains of Billie curl into a hug like raspberry flavoured steam from my mug of tea. The cats have been fed, husband is tucked up in bed, I’m alone with Billie, […]
Morning breaks slowly; in the emerging light, robins and blackbirds rehearse their words, tuning up quietly before they release their songs like raindrops into the stream of morning birdsong to seep into my dream. Kim M. Russell, 30th April 2019 My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads Tuesday Platform Poems in April Day 30: […]
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 […]
a flash of sunlight brushes a pigeon’s feathers morning has broken Kim M. Russell, 19th March 2019 My response to Carpe Diem’s Light Retreat 2019: The Joy of Light In a new retreat, we have a period of 30 days to create haiku and tanka on the theme of The Joy of Light.
gulls duet with waves a beach fire’s ashes sizzle in the morning rain Kim M. Russell, 13th December 2018 My response to Carpe Diem #1565 Pacific Beach, San Diego I’ve returned from grandmother duties at my daughter’s house to pick up where I left off on the haiku journey along the Pan American Highway and […]
Morning creeps on feline feet gentle and velvety dark, clambers over the garden gate and lands in dewy grass. She dances in between the trees, her light translucent glass, leaving dewy diamonds wherever her feet pass. Kim M. Russell, 29th November 2018 My response to Poets United Midweek Motif: Morning Poem Sumana asks us to […]
Since I retired and as I get older, I find I need less sleep. I frequently wake around three, four or five o’clock, unable to return to the dark cocoon that enveloped me so cosily when I was younger. When the cats chirrup from the bedroom door, I no longer turn over and burrow back […]