Ellen Symons, Author

Writing Spaces

  • Fierce broom

    Spring pulls back the rug points at winter’s housekeeping and wields a fierce broom. ____________________ Read more

  • Assassin

    In the dark, warm air stokes its breath, eyes dawn’s snowflakes. Winter starts to die. __________ Read more

  • Mad for a moment

    Fling open the door: the wind blows cold but we hear chickadees and as the snow peels back smell mud a hint of greening and Spring’s buds inching toward light. Impatient to be out of its woolens and flaking cells our skin clamours to be bared against soft sun, our hair daydreams of a ruffling… Read more

  • Moonlit snow records

    Moonlit snow records small creatures’ escapades. Sun wipes the slate clean. ____________________ Read more

  • Weightless

    From the chair I stand but tumble back outside the snowflakes at the glass hover windless weightless my knees buckle at their suspended beauty ____________________ Read more

  • Feed me

    Feed my winter heart, my famished, desperate eyes – pour sunlight on the snow and brew my spirits’ rise. ____________________ Read more

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