Lemon brashness softens and blooms into the livid greens and blues of a mouldy citrus bruise. Once it was firm and glossy, oiled with fruity essence; it has become its own reflection, silently exhaling spores that dance a tango with a fading summer scent. Kim M. Russell, 16th October 2018 My response to dVerse Poets […]
Tag: Tuesday Poetics
She is bold
and she is gold a yellow globe of chrysanthemum joyful and optimistic unfurling in the sun in her heart the warmth of summer rustling gently in the breeze among burnished falling leaves ready to mourn on the old year’s tomb. Kim M. Russell, 7th October 2018 My response to dVerse Poets Pub Tuesday Poetics: What’s […]
Washing Day
I can still smell soap bubbles in the scullery, steamy clean and floating through my early years; my grandmother’s hands red and hot, tea-towels boiling in the biggest pot as I turned the handle of the wringer, reminded always to ‘Mind your finger!’ I remember sitting on the back step while she raised the line […]
Netsuke
Snug in the palm of my hand, fingers curled and caressing its smoothness, exploring miniature scales on back and fanned tail, tiny teeth in roar of mouth, the dust-filled creases of its head, flaming copper burnished with the faint scent of boxwood, my little finger fits the curve of its body, feels the kanji carved […]
Everything Stopped
The room was silent. In one fell swoop of those planes the buzz just stopped – everything stopped, everyone stared at computer or TV screens, in disbelief at what they’d seen. Everything stopped, the world stopped spinning for a moment. So far from this tragedy and yet so close to anguished faces, desperate faces, faces […]
A Winter Forecast
I watch the mist of an autumn morning creep across the fields, shrouding the grey outline of the church and leaving a scattering of dew. In this moment I think of you still chasing dreams like a youthful robin tuning up in preparation for the spring, and me a wood pigeon with my loud and […]
Adage Adagio
Wisely and slow; they stumble that write fast and wisdom or music from their words escapes. Steady keeps the pace; if you slow down, you notice words you never heard before. Slow as a simile, stanzas don’t grow on busy sheets of paper and a rolling rhyme gathers no metre. In other words: more haste […]
