Girl with a Cello
In a diamond city night we’re
taxied through floodlit streets
angled snow alabasters old facades
medieval histories beyond all guessing
Flanders is frozen outside this misted glass
the two of us sitting nose to nose
our tongues loosening aperitif smiles
white burgundy cutting through brie
making heads light and cheeks flush
and toe touch toe
Our eyes meet when bare soul strokes calf
kissing slim fingers one by one
plied each day to taut cello strings
sneak previews to plots and suites of night
© copyright df barker 2012
I grab a cup of tea, set out
to make something of the day.
Snow again, it brings daylight on.
They describe it as ten centimetres
which I still find hard to see.
It’s enough to cover my shoes,
that’s how I look at it
while clearing your little car.
Later, the laptop warms my knee
with Schubert declaring his genius,
when I feel the phone shudder.
A cursory text says the roads
were not too bad.
I look outside at the gathering host,
busy blots of grey and black
on white. An emerging blue.
They know the human is about
and that he has food.
photo and poem © copyright dfbarker 2012
The face of winter
hangs rigid like death
pinching my ears
stabbing at my nose
Plumes of steam
from concrete slits
blur hunchback figures
the matte scenes
in ashen white
I’m looking for heat
on lunar prints
sealed in fortnight ice
waiting for steel facades
and great sheens of glass
to emanate your face
from rippling sepia shapes
poem and image © copyright David Francis Barker 2012
image digitally created