
The pall of winter
pervading this barren land.
A single snowdrop
Copyright Francis 2021

The pall of winter
pervading this barren land.
A single snowdrop
Copyright Francis 2021

Nothing can stop it,
spring will come when it’s ready —
blue tit is calling
Copyright Francis 2021

One day I was left
out — the first day of fair May.
That record is stuck
Copyright Francis 2021

I miss the chatter,
of belonging to a team —
I have found myself
Copyright Francis 2021

A web clings
with limpid fragility
to the fractured sapling,
timorous in air’s breath,
long left by the spinner
of autumn’s lair
Copyright Francis 2021