Monday, 13 February 2017


This bold wave of snowdrops, white capped,
cresting over heaped churchyard turf,
curling around groyned gravestones.
I do not remember such icy exuberance
when I looked before, too eager for joy,
but I am beyond the wall now and careless,
caught in the breaking, drenched in wonder.

Alice Christie
13 ii 17


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