I turn the door latch
And an icy shaft blows in.
Outside, a crunch underfoot,
Peering into the silent blizzard
Beneath amber street-lamps –
A scene from a story of make believe form.
I pull my coat tighter,
Blinking into the snowflake tips
That prick my face,
And edge down the street –
A static coat of arms,
Parked cars entombed in snow –
Calm rings out as black clouds shift above.
I swallow my heartbeat,
Speeding up to spark the blood flow through my limbs.
If I listen hard enough I can hear the calm elsewhere –
The fluorescent entrance lights of the hospital
Hiding the sleepy wards of old and young inside,
Lost in their dreams of tomorrow,
Silently walking with me
Feeling the life in their fingertips –
The nourishment of movement –
In the eerie quiet of this moment others
To ease out of life.
The brush of pillow on their cheek,
A final revelatory sensation
Ebb of pulse and current,
Minutes become seconds become darkness.
Inhabiting this new paradigm
I feel for my keys,
The cerated edges that will temporarily
Escape me back to the confines of
I click the kettle switch and
Read each word of the last holiday postcard,
Holding onto the fridge corner to steady myself.