an anonymous
new year's gift -
of sniffles
just enough snow
to show
a cat's passed by
bitter night
the last
of the honey
in one room
after another
winter chill
the winter sun
is enough to melt
a hard frost
why do useless attachments
last for a lifetime?
fainter and fainter
down the darkening road -
'comfort and joy'
Christmas Eve
settling down to re-read
an old book
almost Christmas
a section in the card shop
marked 'religious'
no moon
to play the ghost of hope -
winter solstice night
cafe window -
for a while we're on the inside
looking out
lost glove
palm up - holds the curve
of the fingers
slipping back
into the soft dark
of a winter dream
the street preacher -
his voice
and the busker's
down the high street
a boisterous crowd
of Santa Claus balloons
cool moon
beyond the flickering
of coloured lights
advent -
the stubs
of last year's candles
year's end -
a hint of green in the taste
of a red tomato
on the bus
we talk of God, the holocaust
and handkerchiefs
nothing to say
moon below
the telephone wire
playing
that song again
I remember
why I stopped
playing that song
not smiling -
woman with a basketful
of cartoon pyjamas
each step up
the library stairs
smaller bits of leaves
stress-ball globes
the office worker
juggles
December drizzle -
discount shops selling
artificial snow
a silver star
in the window
of a grubby pub
fifty-two
small blank squares
my year planner
clenched fingers
deep in a coat pocket
the numbing cold
of a house key
on a metal ring
playing a tree
he bends
to check the script
quiet zone
the only person in there -
on the phone
quiet is the new smoking according to Pete Ashton
rain clouds
darkening
the morning sky