Winter’s Day  

My son was seven years old; his skates were much too big. We saw fishes and a frog under ice, whooshed by reeds, past eleven imagined towns, ate freezing cold chocolate and sat on the bank. In the peat we found a potsherd. All the world lay bright and dry at our feet.   Winterdag…

River

Very often I have looked in places near rivers for proof it was possible: so I sometimes find myself coupling in long grass, hear water, wind — swans flying overhead beat out unborn time with wooden wings; copulation’s rhythm says black-white, yes-no, so does your heart and that’s all, on your lap please, and for…