I ask the crickets for their song; graze my palms across static wheat; invite the breeze to kiss my cheeks. I am adorned in the hum of life; a melody of perseverance, the thrum of legs raising an unending chorus. I eagle my arms left to right and fall into the long grass; a sea … Continue reading About crickets
To the paper we grew from/ stemmed from lines in bark translate to lines on pages. To the letters we kept buried between roots, words we chose not to burn but breathe, in and out, oxygen and carbon dioxide, the earth's atmosphere in our palms. To the woods, to the words we wrote … Continue reading An Open Letter ft. H. M. Reynolds
I count them on my fingertips: branches without berries, leaves or acorns, without warmth, horribly exposed skeleton bones poking upwards of the horizon like hands attached to choral lamentations reaching up from the underworld seeking a love they lost days, months or years ago. Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019 Between the Trees UK Between the … Continue reading Without berries
Small and pale, the orchid sings open in this wintry month and calls all to lay a gentle fingertip upon them, then lifts its head, its paper thin petals peeling outwards, arms wide to accept dappled sunshine melting through the hallway windows onto its down feather white cheeks, and it bares its pollen orange polka … Continue reading I will kiss
The afternoon stretched its limbs into the evening, leagues past noon: a sky the texture of candy floss and the colour of a brewing storm. Wind buffeted the waves as the tide retreated far out, slipping away from the estuary and into the ocean’s recesses. Wind buffeted my face, spinning locks of hair … Continue reading Saturday: on a bench
I have been a follower of Trandahl's work for a while now and I have always admired the succinct way he captures the beauty of nature and home. His collection, Bravery, uses the peace and hope found in nature as its backbone whilst Trandahl also writes about love, family, and alludes to life in the … Continue reading Review of Bravery, Nicholas Trandahl
Your lessons in abandonment have finally come into use as I forget each day to water the sweetpea hanging from the tree and watch it crisp beneath the sun's heat, yellowing like teeth. I wonder if you did this too every time you dug your heels in deep and saw her before me, refusing to … Continue reading The Sweetpea
I like to watch you, from the window, saunter to the fence from where you can watch the wind perform in zigzags across the wheat and sigh, exhale blue smoke into the sky and listen to the day fade away into blackbirds fussing and the cat stalking from beneath the rose bush. I like … Continue reading Nature and you
Ten minutes of hail. Ten minutes of innocent discontent; wild eyed wonder of the great outside; which pours in blues and greens, hailstone pebbles and grey before spinning the clouds into gold. Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019 Between the Trees UK Between the Trees US Available internationally
The trees breathe songs of ocean waves whenever the wind rises and silences the magpies, whistling a crescendo of salt upon shore between the branches and leaves; mixing bitterness and sunshine into a heady gale which reveals the very power of Nature’s voice as it moves up the scale, practising arpeggios and ceasing in falsetto, … Continue reading The wind rises and silences
