Monday, 6 March 2017

Winter's End

Esses of daffodils snake across
the green. Dips and holes
of the station platform
fill up with rain.

A cornering bus brakes sharply
to wait for a cortege, led
by a plumed horse
pulling the bier.

Each mourner withholds
the passengers’ stares
by resolutely looking
only forwards.

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