Unseasonal

A sudden, fragile truce.
For an hour
Winter withdraws
And yields the field.

A shell-shocked sun
Emerges, cautious,
Blinking in bewilderment
In the spin of silver spokes;
As I ride out to greet and grasp it
With my bare hands.

Later, locked in the deep dark
With Spring’s brief kiss
Still warm upon on my skin.
A parting and a promise
That I will hold her to.

 

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One thought on “Unseasonal

  1. I’m very interested in the way your poetry has changed recently, Nick. The free verse has brought your lines closer to the naturalness of speech, without losing the essentials of poetry. I know you value the discipline of defined forms and metres, and I expect you will give us more of that. The trick will be to preserve the naturalness of this new voice within the shape of established forms. I sense you are having fun moving into a new field and seeing where it will take you. Bon voyage and best wishes – John

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