Climbing into bed in the cold snap,
lungs like the tinsel-covered trees outside,
nature’s winter decoration;
baubles of snow splintering from frozen branches,
the grass beneath a mass of white worms
Britain from space a titanic iceberg, sinking spirits,
snapped from Europe’s bough.
A pool of ice at the bottom of the bed
turns toes inwards,
foetal, blue thoughts withdraw towards
memories of holding you,
face nestled in my neck,
breathing the scent of your hair;
hail! ‘heart squeezy’ feelings;
ounce by ounce your lingering heat,
wrung free, thaws me.