First published in January 2022
Frost skinkling on the grass
like fine white embroidery, a pale sun lighting
the damask sky, still squirrel-grey.
The air is chill, bird-bath
iced over, pond's dark depths satin-black, goldfish in hiding.
I scatter a confetti of crumbs for the solitary sparrow.
I shiver, pull the zip of my fleece
tight to my neck. I shuffle across the slippery patio, eager
for coffee, to view the garden, a black & white collage,
from the kitchen window.