I so enjoy pauses: to come to a place
where the light is dimming -
the gentle Mozaga fields in springtime dusk
the moths flying late in the darkening
curled between the sheets I focus on
small things: cats grooming themselves
grasses pushing through
how to clean dust from the door tracks ...
but caught by a memory of warm lit windows
I am taken back in time
to a winter evening maybe 5 or 10 years ago
and the small back garden in St Werburghs
to a stretching plain of white that smothered the lawn
in darkness, following the snaking stepping stones
and under the naked, shivering elder tree
in the cold, quiet stillness of snow
the aquamarine painted summerhouse -
halogen heater humming and turning, brightly
to where we snuggled under soft red blankets
to watch a 70s Italian thriller on your laptop
with the cats all excited to cuddle up between
and in the dim surrounding snow light
we drank strong homemade white wine
our heads tilting, calming down - snug and
where for a while, time wound down to slow motion ...
for a moment, I have returned to that echoing place
and I am thanking you, for that moment in time
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