Poem ‘Flux’

The window is
ajar,

just enough to
let in some air, to

tantalise the cat
hooked by

night’s soft invitation.
Something outside

is burning, hangs
in the yielding light, though

I’ve never
seen those crimson clouds

phase
to dusky pink

and then to grey.
It’s a flux which

eludes me
every time.

Magic, you might say,
like being in space,

and now

Poem ‘Terrorform’

Terrorform

From the first day let us start to terraform Mars,
make oceans from melting ice caps

and rivers run red through the rusty soil.
Day two let’s release plankton into the sea,

let out vast shoals of fish to feed on them
and steely predators to feast on the fish.

Day three we’ll throw spores into the sparse air
and watch the forests grow, the trees

stretch high up the slopes of Olympus Mons.
Day four let’s release mammals, birds

and other fauna into the forests and fields,
to watch them gorge on the goodness

of the land, enjoy the clarity of the sky.
Then on day five we’ll take ourselves

to the former red planet, to become
the feared Martians we thought were there.

Day six let us wage glorious, total war
among ourselves, make the rivers run red

in the name of the god who named this place.
And day seven let us rest, exhausted by labour

and lust, to examine our new abomination
from the safety of space’s vacuum,

in orbit with Phobos and Deimos
without fear or dread of another first day.

*poem first published in collection ‘Anonymous Lines’, available at amazon.
**image created digitally.

Windows

we admire the window’s
fine proportions
giving out
onto bare trees
a grey sky
those pervading
stillnesses of space

and the coffee
is good and strong
good enough to take black
to sit back with
and to savour

and listen
can you hear the
crows calling?
they’re telling of
eastern winds
bringing on the winter
which arrives tomorrow

but against
this crackling fire
our comfort is fixed
by your hand in mine