Winter Wonderland

The rink is sliced up from the many feet

That have cut across it with their blades,

Some nimble, some unsteady as a foal,

Scarring the ice in every direction.

The rain has come and gone,

Leaving behind several shallow puddles

Which we must skirt around.


My woolen scarf is wound tight around my neck,

But my gloves are worn through,

So I feel the warmth of your dry hands.

When you press your thumbs against mine

I wonder at what we have lost

Time and time again.


I feel your soft imprint on my palm, on my mind.

Never have I been so at war within myself,

starting to feel like I don’t have any answers.


We could live anywhere but here

Yet we never feel at home

Neither in the heat nor in the snow and the damaged ice.






Christmas Card

He recognised the way she wrote the letter ‘z’

With that tail, like a crotchet rest

To give the music silence.

He paused too, looking at the envelope in his hand

It stung when he ripped it open

Like pulling a plaster off after leaving it too long.

But there it was, another Christmas card

From the supermarket

His name scrawled inside and a row of kisses at the bottom.

It was worse to be almost forgotten

And hastily remembered

Than to be totally erased from her life

and given a clean slate to start from

Completely motherless.