She raises the pink peonies, cool,damp leaves and petals a balmto her industrious fingers. Those dual-headed, blowsy globes grasped in her palmexude a fruity wisp of sweetnessthat makes her life much easier to bear.No customers notice the neatnessof her blouse, the pretty headscarf that she wearsto cover the cuts and bruises of her husband’s violence.She […]
Tag: Open Link Night
Gannet
Amid the balmy, briny breath,the whiff of wind-worn rockand washed-up bladderwrack, a great white birdemerges from the ocean. It’s a pterodactyl-like contraptionof hollow bones and feathers, buffetedby the coming storm. Puppeted, the gannet freezesmid-flight, a scribble torn between fantastic nacreous cloudsand foaming green waves,trapped in the anticipation of an early sea grave. Kim M. Russell, […]
View from the Ochre Room
In his studio in the asylum at Saint Remy,the artist sets up his easel, takes a sheetof paper the size of a street poster (maybeit was once a poster), and attaches it,smooths it flat, arranges chalks, oils,watercolours and brushes.He chooses carefully, black chalkto sketch the window, a little off-centre.Light passes through the glass of jars,bottles […]
Just Saying
It’s not just a cup of tea,it’s fragrant steamfrom a porcelain bowl,leaves inside blossoming outside. It’s not just a breath of air,it’s hundreds of yearsof leaves and latewood,Earth’s redemption. It’s not just the sea,it’s immeasurable depthsand creatures as mysteriousas aliens somewhere in space. It’s not just poetry,it’s time scrunched into a balland smoothed out again,words […]
Woman with Flowered Hat
I cannot greet with nod of head,so I walk erect and smile insteadat passers-by who stop and stareat the flowered hat atop my hair.My neck is long, the hat is tall,I must beware in case it falls.Tottering along the crowded lanes,I dodge the parasols and canes;the flamboyant blossoms on my hatraise whispering and lots of […]
Frequently the woods are pink
Frequently the woods are pink,hunched over, shy and nude,creeping round churned up fields. Carrion crows, grey as fading ink,pick at drowned worms, rudeand raucous as they wield sharp, curved beaks then sinkthem into mud, cackling a lewdcaw. Breaks in the treeline reveal the village church, a chinkof grey stone to lighten the mood,bobbing on the […]
Searching for Dark Matter
We could search the skywith the naked eyeor the ocean bedbut, when all is said, there’s enough darkmatter in a symphony,a masterpiece of art,prose or poetry. What the eye can’t seein heaven or below the sea,is hidden deepin our hearts and souls. Why do we feel the needto explore black holes(or alcohol in dark bars)for […]
Vs, Ws and Xs
On my first much-needed walkin a few weeks, a heron, statue-still,sat guard by the bridge – untilI took out my phone for a shot, and it slow-winged up and overthe dyke. Down the muddy lanethere were deep red berries,and overhead the clamour of geese flying in v, w and xformations, criss-crossing the sky.They left me […]
Last Morning Before Autumn
Three o’clock finds me up early,unsettled by hoots, shivery calls and a swirlyglittering dome of stars in obsidian sky. Pale clouds wisp across fathomless darkand an owl magically curves an arc,low and slow, before it lands on the bark of an ancient tree. And then there’s me,face pressed against cold glass to seewhat I can […]
Grandma and the Red Umbrella
Whether it’s for protectionfrom the bullion blazeof the sun or acidic city rain,the red umbrella draws the gazeof everyone on Grandma’s street. It’s with her whenever she goes out,furled or unfurled, swung or twirled,you can see her coming in the distance,dancing and tripping on the pavement. She is the personification of jolly,always ready for gossip […]
writing in north norfolk 