Lovers in winter
When I picture it now, of course,
I can only picture it in the wrong season:
summer light on shop windows,
dusty pavements, the market’s
mosaic of fruit and veg,
a walled garden’s modest luxury.
Not so hard to imagine you, though,
arm in arm on a familiar square –
or rummaging bookstalls,
drinking coffee, running for trams.
You’ll be laughing or breathless –
or both. On the bridge where
dual carriageway headlights
cast an eerie glamour,
it’ll be as if your past differences
were nothing more than blank spaces
on a map of the constellations.
Tom Phillips is a freelance writer and lecturer. His poetry has appeared in a variety of
magazines, anthologies, pamphlets and his full-length collection Recreation Ground. His work can also be found on the Anglo-Bulgarian collaborative project Colourful Star http://msvstp.blogspot.co.uk/.