In those days we'd sleepwalk.
It was easier for us to see the city that way.
The daytime gave us kitchen steam,
flour tilting like November snow. At night
we'd trudge through gardens
that our house had never seen.
We would run and cup non-existent light.
Mostly, we dressed up as birds. Mary's favourites
were the leather swans. Black feathers in her bedsheets
and a zip up to her neck. We'd walk
together and in lines -
our wings hooping every lamppost.
In the mornings we'd bathe our swollen feet. Inch
our claws along the frozen tiles -
make-believe that we could fly again.
[tag word: SNOW - from Patricia Campbell]
[So, that's the first one! I'm off to bed now, and will get up early and continue writing. One down, ninety nine more to go. Hope you enjoy them. x]
100 Poem Challenge: writing 100 poems in a weekend to raise money for EEC International.