11 February 2016

fromfourlanes

soft shadow-feathers

where yew branches brush the wall

the murmur of wings

I found it very difficult to respond to Don Paterson’s ‘Little Aster’ from 40 Sonnets – it’s another where I don’t feel I have the right, either as reader or as writer, and perhaps it’s best just to let it sit there in its strangeness. But my daughter gave me a crocus today, and so I wrote this:

cold little crocus

she picked you by accident

and gave you to me

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