Perfectly carved
Like a sculpture old
She stands on the stage
Wearing only a sash
Please do not look
She has only tonight
Before it all fades
The twisting lights
Blue and green and
Red and yellow and-
There she is.
If you look
You may never see
Again.
February came
With all the excitement of a wet leaf
Soggy, damp, and dew-dropped.
The leaf holds no promise for me;
Prim-rose and parquets line
The cusp of my garden.
But to the vole; squeaky, sullen
Silent among the reeds and thistles
The wet leaf means renewal.
The Start Of All Things 