the day after the storm

white sheets covered
the streets
tucking in the corners

with icy fingers curling
underneath the cobblestones

and down beyond the frigid surface
in the warm and murmuring earth beneath

ancestors rumbled, bleating out complaints
until the sidewalks heaved
and spread apart to release
their breath into the cold air.

high street warmed with buds blooming
spring, airlifting
spirits.


March 2007 Pat Bashford