I felt it would probably be a little hypocritical me going on about other peoples work out there and other peoples creativity that’s sent into me  without showing my own from time to time. This definitely isn’t what the blog’s about, but I felt like there’s this one piece I wanted to share. So here, quite out of nowhere, is my poem ‘Boreal’ – there’s no analysis or explanation because unfortunately I don’t have one. I just hope you enjoy.

 

Boreal

Have you ever

been walking?

When the only thing to do is move

like you’re looking for something,

and then the dull radiance

of white, boreal light

leaks under your eyelids

and into your brain.

 

They hang from

deliberately tall, pointed metal.

Outside lampshades.

 

If you’ve ever walked under them

when the freezing, ebbing shine starts up

in an arctic flash

so you can see wet, spitting fray

and the dots of the fog

and the swirl of the breeze

and your shoe laces.

 

When all your troubles are, briefly,

encased in ice.

When the street lights turn on, the night has come.

 

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