Spring rain

Daffodils look sad in the rain.   Pushed against the hillsides bruising a mustard yellow, losing all of their sunshine and the smiley faces I imagine hidden on the inside of their petals.   Weak and failing, praying for the wind to let up, just for a day.     Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2020 Between … Continue reading Spring rain

A rope hangs

A rope hangs, pulls taut, over the edge of a cliff, love clings to the knots, swinging above an abyss masked by settling cloud. Above there stands a figure, a shadow against the sun, and in their right palm sits a knife, emboldened by the disappearing light, it glints in all that is left and … Continue reading A rope hangs

Poetry

I want to be as poetic as possible so if the Brontes were alive they would make me a heroine all starry eyed with violence, or Blake would call me a song of both innocence and experience. Ovid would wish to dance with me, turn into monsters and flowers with me, because my poetic sensibilities … Continue reading Poetry

Route 62

Route 62, the pink and purple bus fading like a disappearing sunset, which always passes beneath a lamp which flickers - the orange eye wearing a halo of feathers, the seagulls too far from the sea. Homeward bound - bus ticket in hand, paper turned redundant, used and crumpled, left in a pocket to fall … Continue reading Route 62

Brother

I hope you realise you are the salt of my earth. The roots which reach ever deeper. I hope you realise one day how much more you are than you have believed before. You are waxwings in the trees arriving on winter’s doorstep in stoic defiance. You are warmth in the bitter cold. I hope … Continue reading Brother