February 2

TUESDAY 5

On the other
side, wrought iron gates open
on a rutted track.

WEDNESDAY 6

The robin on the
budding magnolia won’t
wait for photographs.

THURSDAY 7

The sun marks the shape
of me on the ground, with a
barcode of railings.

FRIDAY 8

On the bus platform,
an amalgamation of
soles trodden in rain.

SATURDAY 9

Prints of charcoal seas,
a bereaved mother, a corpse
fighting against death.

SUNDAY 10

Daffodils out, and
crocuses. Blackbird skitters,
close to Valentine’s.

MONDAY 11

Twigs chewed up by the
wind, disintegrating on
tarmac, in puddles.