Wind bites,

gates slide

blossom tumbles

so much useless

confetti.

 

Thoughts float

in the dry air

crackle along

pavement,

twisted at

junctions.

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

symptoms

washing you clean.

 

Hail smashes

cut ice glass

leaving no

smudges

just a clear

windscreen,

with no view.