posted in: Poems 2014 | 0



Red berries


Beside storm-curdled mud-drifts;

Birds pecking land and worms back from fenced waterfields.


Russet brown and orange – requiem saw shavings

From the old tree brought down across the pavement.

Only a livid stump remains

In its allocated earthbreak;

Its sentinel centuries





Marigold flowers

Humbly swarm to warm the bottom of a gate post,

And the yellowing green of new catkins

Hangs a promise above greying ghosts;

Shade-slumbering old man’s beard

Tangles winter’s last legacy into a hedge,

Bequeathing tufts, but only here and there,

To the blinking blue sky.


Down the road,

Indigo grasses have been newly planted in proud garden pots,

Whilst crocuses sprinkle the park;


Like the memory

Of lavender

In brush-dry broken branches

Piled ready for burning,

Now colour has come back to us.

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