Milk-white light spills through the crescent slit in sky
Trees cast broken spider web shadows
I look at my phone as you tell me with you the sun is shining
The earth has spun you away
crushed snow squeaks
crushed snow squeaks and creaks and groans
beneath the ice, grey shadows of fish
the day is dark as evening
The list has been written
The list has been written
I’ve checked it once – twice
I’m deleting old posts which were naughty not nice
Self censorship is coming to town
Fog hides frost
fog hides frost underfoot
the fog into which you disappeared
my balance is lost
My mind warned my heart
My mind warned my heart
My heart did not listen
Flames, flames and breakings
Snow on rain on ice
snow on rain on ice
glass all touches over slide
when will your heart thaw?
purple berries
purple berries snow background
birdsong breaks silence
pale sun
dreams
mobile phone dead beat
mobile phone dead beat
laptop batteries running out its ears
my brain is fried no sleep
I pile the books
I pile the books in a pile
and rest my feet on them.
I flex my feet, curl my toes.
My socks don’t seem to match.
One day I will read them all.
One day they will be mine.
Princes Street, December, 5 pm
Santa-hatted men jig side to side,
accordions balanced on bellies.
Tourists stare up at the castle and down at their phones,
scrolling through maps in their mittens.
All Iain wants is to get home from his work.
He’s wearing antlers and tinsel but his bus has been cancelled.
simonsalento 