Lady Verglas

You drifted in
like shivering mist.
I lost traction
and came round
in wreckage:
twisted scars,
morphine.


You wraithed me
with soothing words,
entreaties, promises.
                      A miasma
of groans and thuds,
crackling with sparks
and the acrid drip
of petrol.




Paul Jeffcutt (2011)

The Door

Go and open the door.
Maybe outside there’s
a tree, or a wood,
a garden,
or a magic city.

Go and open the door.
Maybe a dog’s rummaging.
Maybe you’ll see a face,
or an eye,
or the picture

          of a picture.

Go and open the door.
If there’s a fog
it will clear.

Go and open the door.
Even if there’s only
the darkness ticking,
even if there’s only
the hollow wind,
even if
          nothing
                    is there,
go and open the door.

At least
there’ll be
a draught.      

Miroslav Holub (1962)