Winter? I’d show you the white plumes embossed
On our front bedroom windows by the frost:
Nestled in the ‘L’ of the bottom sash,
Filigree feathers, swirling and storm-tossed;
Whipping flourishes, photo-stopped, mid-lash,
By the window-lens’s camera-flash
And frozen – bright negatives in relief –
Onto the glass. Painted with an eyelash,
The downy edging to each bunched ice-sheaf
Suggested softness as the leitmotif.
Such willingness to let this artistry
Melt at my childish breath! I was naïve.
This pretty filter meant to let me see
How Coldness gets inside so easily.
Who’s fragile here? He soughed. It isn’t me.
What’s fragile here? Not me. Not me. Not me.
Angela Graham’s new poetry collection Star: poems for the Christmas Season is published by Culture And Democracy Press. Her collection of poetry, Sanctuary: There Must Be Somewhere 2020 and collection of short stories, A City Burning 2022 are published by Seren Books. She is an award-winning film maker and BAFTA-nominated screenwriter. angelagraham.org
More work by Angela Graham
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