The snow hushes my complaints as it slushes off my umbrella. “We’re sorry”, it says, “we’re April snow but we didn’t know”. It lies at my feet, is translucent and melts. Over the wall the river is rising, brown foaming.
jetstreamed clouds above
brick by heavy brick we build
red bridges of love
She said he snored like an alien bee. He said but only when I sleep. The next night he was silent and she dreamed of honey-sweet stings.
This houseplant thrives on neglect.
Do not feed it or give it water.
Do not wipe the dust from its leaves.
Let it be and it will survive.
And, perhaps, one day, it will flower.
waterlily borders venn
your hand in my hand
spring streams down green hills
clouds cross dream horizons
blue skies yes blue skies
I like the snow but now I’m bored. The dog’s been sick and the cats have clawed the sofa. I’ve run out of milk, I’m out of tea, no, I know it’s no disaster but it’s close enough for me. I’m grateful to the neighbours – the ones who’ve called – I love the snow but now I’m bored.
ways forward lost
a future is waiting
pitched valley snow shielded
high woods breach perfection
circling birds black above