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Seasonal postcards

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Seasonal postcards

Half-Term Holidays

Sprinting over allotment paths, brown heels
hammer on hardened ground, our feet cushioned
by sun-warmed grass. We chase and fight and hide
and chase as afternoon wears into evening.
Pink plastic water guns, emptied then tossed aside
with wet clothes. We flee the battle, exhausted,
flopping onto the trampoline. Tired-talking,
long pauses. I watch the trees laden with ivy,
stirred by the slightest summer breeze.

Autumn Evenings

We wander home on red-dust paths,
through darkening woods, and empty fields,
a lingering audience to the ending day.
The reaching sky is set ablaze.

Clouds catch light, glow like embers,
then dim, fade black, and sail away
in plumes of smoke. Below, the sun
drifts down with cosmic speed, its core
bleeding out in bouts of flame,
until it drowns behind silhouetted trees.

We stand beneath this ash-filled expanse,
watching, as a cooling blue
relieves the heat and soaks the sky,
before walking on in sinking light.

 

January Mornings

Terracotta pots organically sealed,
life locked down in winter coffins.
Frosted lawns release fresh smells
as rising sun thaws out the frozen.

Leather boots make shallow prints
upon the paving’s powdered glaze.
The bike’s brash engine, left to run
in a countryside still sleeping.
She watches him leave by the back gate,
and wishes he’d take the car instead.

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