Sunday, 22 September 2013

Equinox 21/9/13

Axle end moon,
sitting justly
on a flat horizon.
Inverted fulcrum:
the balance point
of dark and light.

The seesaw tips,
we cross the meridian
into the long shake
of hibernation nights,
the drop of logs in hearths,
the fug of damp coats hanging
in mouldering hallways
of winter hearts.

Friday, 6 September 2013


Two Cabbage Whites
                      twist and dance in flight
         inches from each other,
                                     each little manoeuvre
                      a mirror to another.

                                                          How do their tiny
                                               brains comprehend:
                                                                   this white one here
                                     will be my friend?

                 Must they get up
                                     so close
                                               to recognize
                                                   their cavorting ally
                                           by the winking
                          whites of its
                                        fluttering eyes?

First published in The Garden Poetry Anthology from OWF Press 11/14