a bulletin

abulletin.pic_.poem_

 

dogs in the park shamble in

snow that clings to their fur

in a vanishing jacket of ragged threads

 

one black lab does looping circuits

of the spreading quagmire in search

of a ball so disguised by mud it vanishes

 

deer stalk to a tethered pile of hay

left for them as a staging post

for their ancient rituals in this Royal Park

 

and on the High Street oblivious traffic

is cautious after snow and the evening news

where word has it that speech in Iowa is dangerous

 

whipped to a frenzy by a polar vortex

the wind in North  America

instantly freezes boiling water

 

by ‘eck, I wonder what my family

in Cumbria make of it

a ‘breeze’ to them I shouldn’t wonder