1322
the sky inside
Uncle John used
to say –
‘many are cold
but few are frozen’
clean winter yet
raucous
flights have
recommenced
it’s as if sound were
light
the finger frost
still hollows
these voices through
the wall
prepare for the leap
point ourselves up into
the hours
everything steel to the
touch
see window glint
by curtain – day!
think
crack sticks for a fire
spare me the breath of
fresh air
shake a leg to warm it
in wool
and under down
by slipper
imagine a path to the
hearth
imagine
others have had the
half year dark
elsewhere the true cold
we’ll wimp through this
turn pages
though your fingers
freeze
stay snug tucked up
with these ideas
a little wriggle warms
us all
enjoy this while it lasts
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