She sheltered her sheets between two wind-blown trees; a worn linden and a sapling juniper. She wrote out her year beneath their dappled leaves, considering the worth of the words on the paper. * A worn linden and a sapling juniper; both told their own long-sown tales and, considering the worth of the words on … Continue reading Between two wind-blown trees.
i. The storm debris of yesterday draws a leitmotif of poems from the ordinary eddies on the stream. Beneath Newcastle Christmas lights, a confederacy of dreamers breeze the streets of King and Queen. * There is also synchronicity - this being the eve of Saint Nicholas ('... archers and repentant thieves') - I see one … Continue reading The Archer’s Postcard.
A series of corridors. Breathing hard, neither speaking. Their footsteps falling from the walls, the ceiling. The moon in the windows, repeating. The fire door. The way out. Great gulps of cold night air, both doubled over, looking all about themselves, sweating heartbeats. They were stood on a short, wooden jetty on the south side … Continue reading Plate Moon.
on monday i saw a shell on a beach - a beautiful shell on a delicate beach. except it wasn't a shell and it wasn't a beach. it was beautiful though, and delicate. i thought about that shell on tuesday.
I inherited a bag of little people the height of postage stamps. I kept them in a drawer for a half life. I figured one day I might need an army. January 2020 I started saving empty glass jars. I wasn't sure what for. But one day I decided to populate these jars. Isolating little … Continue reading Jam jar diorama.
out there in the bay tonight, captured in a globe of light, hand over hand over hand, overheard lonely lovers coaxing words from the shortwave static.
nickreeves 