Kia ora WordPress whānau,
It’s not a freshly created post today, but rather a shared link for a micro/flash published yesterday.
Stoked that I made it into the Top 22 of Micro Madness, an offshoot of National Flash Fiction Day. And I love the idea of less being more.
Day 11 is where you’ll find my story ‘Anchor’. https://nationalflash.org/micro-madness/
Happy reading 🙂
Kia ora WordPress whānau,
Sharing today an essay I’ve written for Corpus—a wonderful digital forum where ‘conversations about medicine and life’ take place.
It speaks to a shared journey with fibromyalgia, cancer, chronic pain and managing conditions holistically, to include our indigenous perspectives and practices.
http://corpus.nz/thinking-outside-box/#more-3610
Please share, if you feel it might be useful for others.
Ngā mihi nui, best wishes
Iona
life
love loss
exactly the same
regardless of where they sit
be it lap or throat
all three
peel back the folds of me
exposing a core
of bruised and hidden truths
i
walk the mist swathed whenua
into light captured spiderwebs
lakeside swans poke their arses in the air
to remind me of what has been stripped bare
homeless people sleep near the bubbling springs at night but come morning are moved on—make way for the tourists, this is not your home
a stillness belies the mauri underfoot
listen
to the dampened whisper
as Papatūānuku keens
unobscured mists
met the junction of my skin
lovingly
constriction becalmed
a waterfall-salve
of rivulets ran
thick with purpose
and the promise of you
(Picture taken at McLean Falls, Southland, Aotearoa)
Kia ora WordPress whānau,
Reflex Fiction have published a flash fiction story of mine today http://www.reflexfiction.com/ladybird-by-iona-winter/
While it didn’t make their long-list, the lovely peeps at Reflex liked it enough to publish it anyway.
Happy reading,
Iona 🙂
I listen to moth-wings beat
against paned glass
while rain taps the iron roof
and stars are extinguished for the night
i recount my deepest fear
that i would drown
and leave you bereft
i remember galaxies
familiar as my freckled skin
the dust of which has shaped us
i listen to moth-wings beat
