November 4, 2017


I listen to
Barney Bentall music
on the car radio,
one song comes with a story,
A Good Bye to Albert Comfort.

I turn the music up,
as I pull in to park
to the river.
When I step out into the deep snow,
the words stick.

I think about
a love letter
dropping from the winter sky
snow flake, onto my cold cheeks,
into my bare hands.

The letter arrives,
in the branches of a tree
when my breath makes the air white
and my fingers cramp.

Love words
sent to me
in the shape and colour of
a bird.