To A Friend In Winter Poem by Ian Keenan

When the allotments
Called in February
From the back,
And a green day
Hung a breath
To air,
Then I thought of you,

Stretching Spring
Through a fair-haired
And smiling summer,
Of fishing rods and bottles
And a wet dog;
An Autumn slightly
Smoked and cardiganed
With your eyes;

A Christmas
Drunk merry to
Reeling around and
About each other
Down dark and
Laughter clattered
Lanes,
Back home, anywhere;
And then, you and I,
Separate,
In a February.