
Strand against the sea
Winter’s violence raging
Shake down for the new
Copyright Francis 2022
Strand against the sea
Winter’s violence raging
Shake down for the new
Copyright Francis 2022
Lunch by stagnant pools
A great tit’s insistent call
We all wish for spring
Copyright Francis 2022
Young ones love the frost
They hanker for drifting snow
I watch from inside
Copyright Francis 2022
Birds hang on the breeze
from warmer western reaches
Winter’s way to tease
Copyright Francis 2022
Rearrange your heart
The earth whispering her name –
in freshening wind
Copyright Francis 2022
The leaves have vanished
Winter’s left his calling card
The spirit renews
Copyright Francis 2021
Out of morning mist
through the tall, bare avenue
the sun’s disc appears
Copyright Francis 2021
Chill wind in my face,
a cat watching from inside.
Heating on all day.
Copyright Francis 2021
The day snow returned,
buds showing on the blackthorn —
chilblains on my toes
Copyright Francis 2021
Brigid, we parted one February,
an ending for us as the swelling of spring began.
Your name was not Brigid;
the Irvines were lowland Scots, after all,
but you resembled that Irish princess
with the auburn hair, the green eyes,
that cover of the paperback you had lent me
which had entranced me so.
What is it about chemistry?
Or is it music, the way cello and violin
complement one another?
Does the body reflect the soul,
or is flesh mere pretense to mask the true intention?
Things are clearer now —
weren’t we in love with love?
So much easier to bear than with each other,
where loss, pain and misery are set off,
the ticking time bomb of this duality.
And I didn’t say… but I saw you the other day,
older, wiser, a family of your own
but with the same look in your eyes,
so green.
Brigid, though decades now separate us,
I am glad of our anonymity,
the memory of what love might be.
Copyright Francis 2021
***Written for Earth Weal Weekly Challenge regarding Imbolc.