The wish before

Fully charged and full of sap

Buds return from the dead

After a shed insect’s skin,

life swells bud scales

Hope and beauty,

like the first mark on a blank canvas

The first word

The wish

Before the broken bone,

a fractured furcula


The Almond blossom is open today

without the confidence of daffodils

Porcelain petalled dishes blush in the waxing sun



Angle poised

and bound in clumps

snowdrops bow in condescension

to up-ruffed Eranthis.

Brief days before

a barrage of balloons

rise, waiting for sunbeams to prise open,

open for the torpid bees

to wallow in the saffron

of unexpected rapture