Poetry & Writing


Another in the occasional posting of poems….even though Spring has sprung.

(image from http://www.pixdaus.com)



As winter sets in
dying leaves cast themselves
at my feet
in one grand final

I haven’t felt as cold as this
since I was young
and the cold feels like
and memories of drinking nights,
dark and crisp.

A cat, black and silent,
stops to greet
the night owl
hunched against the wind.

and we freeze,
hold our gaze,
and know each other.

snapping wind wraps
cold comfort around my chest,
and released,
the cat melts into the darkness.

We walk on,
the cat and me,


12 thoughts on “Familiar

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