Monday, 23 January 2012

Winter Wasps

Two dead winter wasps on window sills in
different rooms, not trophies but remnants
of my grey January sloth and their misjudged
audacity. It’s not like this is the killing moment
but I was more annoyed than if it were their
right time to die. This far from summer’s sun
puts us both in fragile territory when the warm
surprise of these past few months unsettles
natural things, and I have been teased by
misery simply coinciding with relentless clouds
and climate change on every horizon.
So an eventual Spring clean will remove the cruel
sting from all this uncertainty, but can a hope of routine
return us to a life before the damage done?

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