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.