On Leaving A Warm Office On A Winter’s Day

High noon, the benevolent false heat of the hour

Shattered.  The cold air, forced draught

Into the limbs, deep river, the slow rains fall.

Ice to the cheeks, new life to the lungs and

Action urged upon the breath.

Then wind, the piping fingers to the ribs

Caught out by the cloth’s close lapping;

Splayed feet thrust heel down, head held tight

Speed and the mounting glow within fire

The outer and the inner elements to comfort.

Observation mounts and the wind’s fingers play,

Smoke dives down, and wreaths an arch, the head eludes

Cold sun behind the grey sweeps out a beam;

Journey’s end, face blood denuded, the limbs move free.