Waiting for Harvest

Rapeseed flowers and summerare no longer yellow, ratherbushy, their pods buffed and brittle.Wheat and emotions bristle,stalks and stubble stiffly sway,growing more bleached every day.We wait, baskets filled with apples,watching as the season dapples,before autumn’s fruity, rosy huestip us into winter blues. Kim M. Russell, 13th August 2024 Image by Julia Kicova on Unsplash It’s Tuesday […]

Grief on my Shoulder

Grief perches on my shoulder,as I remember you perchingon the windowsill of life,not ready to spread your wings,still tethered by earthly things. Our goodbye was brutal, no words,just an unbidden memoryof swimming at the local pool,your strong hands buoying me. There are times, left alone with thoughtsand memories, when griefsneaks up, a vulgar thiefof quietude. […]

Dogwood (a quadrille)

A summer blizzard cloudof feathers from a pillow fight,understated blossom clustersshimmering in sunlight hidehard timber once carved intothe cross on which Christ was crucified.Until its grey bark bursts into red,dogwood crouches in hedges,creeps around woodland edges. Kim M. Russell, 16th July 2024 Alma Thomas, Arboretum Presents White Dogwood, (1972), acrylic on canvas, Smithsonian American Art Museum […]

Nets of Inspiration

I tread water, in time,in my sea of consciousness,adrift in space, untilmy mermaid legs are grippedby cramps. Salt water spillsas I climb a rock to restand set myself the taskof repairing torn netsof inspiration and castthem to the waves.Some days, words slipthrough my head like silverminnows. Other days, I seemto catch a whole ocean. Kim […]

The Known and the Unknown

I don’t play video games. My husband does and, sometimes, I watch, suspended in my space,while he controls the action in his. In Silent Hill, we shared the eerie corridors, the abandoned fairground,the empty streets of a ghost town. We searched with the protagonistfor his missing daughter, avoidedor killed zombies that roamed,and were terrified when […]

A Train Ride Home

I look back on my life,trying to find the splicebetween child and adult,and find iton a train ride home. I’m not long off the Oostende ferry,all set for a week in London;I have a poem half-done,balanced on my knees. From the open window, a sharp breezethreatens to blow it away;I tuck my notebook under my […]

On Opening a Book

earthy musty vanilla redolenceerupts into comforting scentsof paper inky words dreams stories poetry from past agespaper that was born in reamscut neatly into pages book weight in happy handshas a balance of coverand leaves caressed by fingers pristine dog-eared annotated abusedthe satisfying sussurus as they turnand the individual paper colour white yellowed crackling edgescrisp fresh […]

Hippy at Heart

I look back on those carefreedays of the nineteen-seventiesand smell pungent Afghan coats,see maxi skirts and knee-high boots,although I preferred to go barefoot.I loved Indian cheesecloth blouses,bangles, beads and loon trousers,bird-covered and scoop-neckedt-shirts, and velvet Biba rejects,patchouli oil, hats and mood rings,and so many other thingsthat I thought made me differentbut, of course, it was […]