Cold snap

The sky is full of rain
And roadworks are blocking our way
The snowmen are melting
It’s sad that they must disappear
But the snow must be got rid of
Like this winter's day

We peer through a hole smeared in the window
Mummy had to drive to work
And grandma got stuck in her house
The smudged sky is a mirror of my soul
My head is still spinning from last night
On my lap, The Picture of Dorian Gray

The return

The grass is a shining white sea

A perfect plane, perfect shadow, a clear light

That speaks of possibilities

The buses, as stiff as blood

Form a patient line by the winter common

There is still a frozenness about

Figures are awakening from a long sleep

As I pass by Peckham's parade

Of peppers and fish, the startling green of the library

The solid geometry of the wood yard

Disillusioned by freedom I am inured

To the slow, orderly return

To a life regulated by colour and light

A place of queues, where harmony is observed

Nature is indifferent, but not this world