cold 
starlings
beech gather their
cacophonies to the gates
                               copper
-leaved
           	               golden
 -throned.

Break bread for them,
bring water for them.
                       
blue mountain, the
sleeping houses
a hot-house orchid
Mabel chases her ball

Beautyberries subsist,
            |her peripheries stripped|

                    Wintering – a
drop of rain
blesses each white globe
benediction
             for the tiny bird there

Break bread for them,
bring water for them.

Snowdrops,
       cyclamens
low flowers cling
to the low sun


ii.

I left a winter-flowering almond
tree
          Once—
her white breath
against a dull sky
          Him—

Here, at the cross
road where five places meet

my flowers are resurrecting
their pinks. Baby’s breath,

in a tall blue jug belonging to Lily.
She listens to the sea, South of here.


Copyright Chris Murray 2022