Bitter wind

Wind bites,

gates slide

blossom tumbles

so much useless



Thoughts float

in the dry air

crackle along


twisted at


City streets

choked :


peoples dreams

float above traffic

ideas fight

for recognition.


The poet sweeps.





Hail driving

skin to slick red

I feel the heel

of spring

as it descends.


I’m a vessel

open for business

channelling your


washing you clean.


Hail smashes

cut ice glass

leaving no


just a clear


with no view.

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