It is bewitching this wild winter sky
that swirls livid coils past the window pane.
Rolling, twisting billows of grey that cry
to merge, blend, before spiralling again;
...
time wraps itself
warm as the Christmas coat
chosen for me
...
Packing up Christmas,
taping up memories.
A flock of green parakeets
...
She cut her teeth
on his broad shoulders,
honed them on his words.
...
Why should I cough myself up?
Spew myself out.
Spatter myself.
I cannot step inside you
...
Sunlight seeps into the garden.
Soon it will be pushing
through winter
bursting into life.
...
Sitting on the tube
looking length ways down
a moving carriage
boring through
...