There’s a surge of crowd on the platform; the track looms too close for comfort and the train is imminent, according to the announcement, so I hug the wall, conscious of an icy spike of wind tugging me a little closer to the edge. Kim M. Russell, 11th March 2019 My response to dVerse Poets […]
Tag: Tuesday Platform
Time to Turn (a Quadrille)
Osier wands planted in November are almost trees. Now’s the time when we remember to pluck a switch or three of willow, white with soft, sleek buds, gold with catkins, sweet temptation to hungry humming bees, still drowsy and crawling from their winter sleep. Kim M. Russell, 6th March 2019 My response to dVerse Poets […]
Progress Forgiven
I forgive pylons that march across fields where once glaciers sculpted valleys, horses plodded down stone-walled lanes and everything travelled by hoof and foot. I forgive the engines that puffed their smoke into the heaviness of time with dark intention and a constant soundtrack of stridulation against a sky the colour of congealed blood. I […]
The Privilege of Green
Once I walked among dusty cars, along crowded streets, hemmed in by buildings and a depression of sky. I had the freedom, the privilege to choose green. Fields, trees and lush leaves are all that crowd me now, and the sky, although not green, stretches its hugeness to infinity. Kim M. Russell, 18th February 2019 […]
Nature’s Game
She lurks in the shadows, her grey-brown trunk short, furrowed and corky, long branches pointy winter wands, charming icicles, writing spells with frost and disappearing into mist. She has already drawn the path of winter’s exile in her elder scrolls, plotted the return of spring with a joyful blossom blast: choirs of birds and drone […]
Unseen
I no longer need to hide in doorways and shadows – I’m one of the unseen. I’m a tatty pigeon faltering on feathers of memories. I’m a twisted old silver birch, invisible in moonlight. I’m a river with no audible ripple, grown lumpen and tufty, dried to a trickle and a tangle of reeds. I […]
Unfettered
Snowdrops bring (de) light to the darkest, coldest months of winter: one day, tentatively poking green heads through hard soil; the next, trickling into a snowdrift of white flowers, gentle harbingers of unfettered reproduction and the joyous riot of spring. Kim M. Russell, 29th January 2019 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Poetics: Harbinger, also […]
Shedding Skin
The first time I shed skin, my tongue probed the blade of a new language, tasted unfamiliar vowels and consonants, bled new words and poems. The second time I shed skin, the words were mine but the tune was new, lilting and green. The last time I shed skin, the landscape taught me everything I […]
A Need to Know Basis
You need to know, I have a fragile muse fashioned from Venetian glass, blown out and close to shattering. Despite that, we climb aboard a gondola and enter the shadow of the Bridge of Sighs, sighing and shivering from the sudden chill. But Venice has its own poetry. The city knows which form to use […]
On the back of the bathroom door…
hangs the cosiest cardigan, the one I hug to me in the early morning; that embraces me while brewing the first cup of tea; that warms me as I write a chilly January poem; the one that shields me from the sneaky draught that evades the excluder and, unwarmed by the log burner, wraps itself […]
writing in north norfolk 