All winter we’ll wander in a red wagon
With cushions of blue.
Nice and warm. With a nest of creepy kisses
Just for us two.
You shut your eyes and won’t look out the window
Where shadows lurk:
Hordes of black wolves and black demons and nightmares
Inhabit the dark.
And then in panic suddenly you feel
A little kiss, like a scared spider, crawl
Across your cheek …
You turn to me to help you find the beast,
And of course I promise to do my best,
If it takes all week …
The cold beauty of the moonlight fades as though
from lack of luck in love;
for no more is it met by laughter of the waterlilies;
its darling moonstone, overlaid by frost,
no longer sweats with yearning;
nor is it welcomed by the eyes of lovers
between their bouts of love.
a mallard’s call
sounds dimly white.
Evening shadows steal
across and up the folding screen –
a passing winter shower.
To *** Her
In Winter, we’ll travel in a small pink coach
With blue cushions,
Well installed, mad kisses nesting
In cosy corners.
You’ll close your eyes, not to see through the glass
The leer of dark evening,
Snarling monster, droves of black demons,
Packs of black wolves.
Then you’ll feel something scratch against your cheek…
A little kiss, brief as a startled spider,
Will run up your neck…
You’ll bow your head and say: ‘Find it for me!’
–And we’ll take the time it takes to ﬁnd that creature
–Which loves to travel…