I don’t want to get out of the shower. When I do, the bullying power of Winter will hit me like a football mis-aimed. Because outside is unthinkable, so I have twined Myself round this one jet that is warm, Like a flower climbing away to the sun. I turn my foot soles up to […]
Through thistles and thicket It plunders and whistles Voice hoarse and rasping Gasping for warmth. Nobody finds nectar In ruddy rosacea blooms Faltering. Stuttering. Hits window. Now lies by the bucket Where polyester ice squeaks.
Plants wither, shiver in winter As snow falls, stalling callings Of spring or summer, brilliant White light to stun her An empty Perfect New York winter
Winter, and the world is distilled, crisped, quietened, not just when it snows. On a day as bright and frosty as this that nameless colour, not quite amber or purple of a willow shoot or yellow of melted butter but something in between is draped across the branches so walking through meditative hills and woods […]
Driving Our December breath ghosting in each other’s eyes (it is harder to forget words which you could see) Winter, at seventeen was inhaling the damp spice of books, books the week of plans and interrogation And Chai tea; milkless, sugarless a cup for her, a cup for me Black ice; that girl I used […]
A flash of a fox I saw one winter’s day, Its eyes still yellow its fur still grey, Before the summer snatches back its hold Before the grey turns red bathed in sunlight gold, A flash of a fox I saw one spring morn, Its face lit up in the rise of dawn, Beginning to […]