Finally you are here and walking;
we step skip slip over surprising
sluices, ruts on verges – bad cars.
And the puddles want to meet
though no rain now disturbs us.
'Watch that step – it’s a doozy!'
Wet-foot I laugh it off. We tiptoe
onto the broad, safe flags. There.
So the clouds have drawn back in;
the pastel midday and the gulls
fled squawking, dulled to lead;
and you came back from London
‘Les Mis’, to daddy who missed you.
We quarrelled; then you kissed me.
YOU ARE READING
Winter Trails
PoetryWinter Trails is an album of my poems, journeying through late fall when the wire of the trees begins to dominate, till the end of January. After promoting it and it soaring to three quarter million reads, Wattpad unceremoniously dumped it. Here it...
