We sat down

to breakfast

on beans and eggs

and I gazed

at the blue

sky, shyly

peeping

through tendrils

and coverlets

of grey.

I thought of the

sweetness of

slow, cold,

void-full

January,

and how

she is

time-dishonoured.

The tentative and loving

bite in her beauty

and patience is

lost

when we

are forced

to rise in

the darkness,

beating our

way though the

shadows and furies

when our bodies,

our souls

ache to awaken

with her.

No wonder

we struggle,

when the

rhythms of

cogs are

venerated, ghosts

of deeper

more sacred

practice,

woefully ignored,

rendering us

ghosts in our

turn.

So I do only

that which is needed,

to suit the

naked limbs

of the trees.

I allow poetry to

pull me

down slowly,

kindly and

passionately

and –

of course! –

there is so much

lusciousness

in January.

She was never

barren,

her darkness

prismatic,

her kisses sent

in hellebore.

With huge love and gratitude to Nikki McKinney at The Bell Jar Flowers for her generous permission to use this photograph as the featured image for this poem. Nikki arranged, designed and provided flowers for my wedding and I never realised how much I cared about these beautiful creations until I met her. She is a true artist. Her work can be found at https://www.thebelljarflowers.co.uk/