Doha II

Last day of winter. Could I be anywhere but here,
Marking the moment, feeling the great wheel turn?

One final skirmish in a war fought on long cold fronts
Against the North wind’s fists, clear nights with sharp knives.

Now its white wolves, cowed and muzzled, slink back to their lairs
Among the floes and treeless slopes shot with scree.

A westerly breeze sends dead leaves spinning before me
As, together, we run winter off the road.



I started this on 29 February but wrote the closing two lines today, when the weather finally realised that Spring officially began a week ago. The long months of filthy bikes and endless layers of thermal/windproof/waterproof cycling kit are at last coming to an end. And not a moment too soon. N.


6 thoughts on “Doha II

  1. You really ought to be hulking in a great bear skin coat along a dirt track through a forest filled with the light of sorcery, Nick. The “north wind’s fists,” white wolves slinking back to their lairs, and “floes and treeless slopes shot with scree.” Ah, this is poetry. Then, as the great wheel turns,
    “we run winter off the road.” May you have your glory of cycling this spring, Nick, and may you also go into the forest and walk through the sorcerous light and keep conjuring song.

    • Thank you for your own very evocative words. I remember springtime in N Yorkshire with great affection; I’m very envious. We spent half-term in Tromso in Norway, and they have a saying there: ‘If it’s still snowing on Midsummer’s Day, it’s going to be a late spring!’ N.

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