leaf shadows on the wall
and feel that I can cope
with winter and the dark
if the sun still
bounds along the hall
like golden retrievers
in the frosty park
astounding light
climbs the wooden door
and creeps across
the kitchen table
like soothing waves
licking the shore,
always moving,
never stable;
yet her gentle knock
never seems to come,
I know the bell
is no longer working
the sound of love
is a distant drum,
rarely seen, though
it might be lurking
there is some comfort
in this draughty light
even when the clouds
are damp and thick
she can still surprise
in soft dreams at night,
quivering beauty –
her purest trick.
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