Excerpts from "Words" by J.B. Pick



Today the fog would not relent;
Yesterday rejoiced in green.
Blue infinity both came and went
And something else could not be seen
Which told me what the weather meant
And where my heart had been.



* * * * *



The slates are on the houses,
The leaves are on the tree.
Wind roars in the evening,
Boats jump on the sea.

Now in the solemn morning
Bare twigs insist,
Slates lie in the gutter,
The dead move in mist.

The real is not what was
Nor what has come to be,
Bad cuts like a sword across
And moves like the sea.


* * * * *


Girl at bus stop


She stamps with cold, and smiles.
Snow lays wet hands on pavements,
Where they vanish.
The air is full of smiles,
Not snowflakes.



* * * * *

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