Talk to me in Spring
of bright and coming things
a butterfly wing of words

Talk to me
in drowsy tones of endless Summer haze
fill the lengthening days

Talk to me
in woodsmoke Autumn,
when the nights close in, begin

Talk to me
wrapped in a cloak of Winter
melt the cold within

Talk to me
walk with me thoughout the year
speak and I will hear

Little storm lover
sitting on a windowsill
while others snore and dream their midnight dreams
cold feet a ticket to watch the lightning
thunder has electric bones
a drum roll giant coming ever nearer
she will catch it if they find her
well worth the risk
to watch the show

Where is the beauty
that tiny creeping flower
it blossoms in the cracks
between the slabbed ugliness of this world

Little bird
come inside
shake the chill
cast winter from your mind
let fall that cloak of grief
pooled around your feet
dark moss
old and dry
trampled to dust
watch me kick it away
forgotten in a corner
stay until the sun returns
let spring be your saviour

Japanese haiku
Distilled from simplicity
Essence of poet

Deep and cool green pool
Edge of the board looking down
A flight without wings

Watching from the edge
You can view eternity
Closer than you think