Hoarfrost coats the loam.
I marvel at nature’s mane
combed back and neatly parted
lose my way in memory
where mind revives summer’s
montbretia, fuchsia, trefoil –
I scout berry, briar, snagged wool.
Idle witness to nature’s flourish contained
my hand divines the way
through an old garden on a cold morning
in the place I’m calling home again –
then metanoia,
water breaks earth and is gripped to ice
I press for the crisp snap of it –
for every howl there is a hush –
a careful crunch on rugged ground,
a place to plot again
loved or alive.
Kate Morgan
Kate Morgan is from Carlow. She has been writing poetry for several years. Her poetry focuses on nature, social issues and the female experience. Kate has previously been published in Skylight 47, Windows Publications and Automatic Pilot.