God story

It had been over a year since I had seen it at the BFI on the Southbank and I had mostly forgotten about it, but it came back to me in a dream, that line from that film I saw; Diary of a Country Priest, All Is Grace.

escapade

The breeze from outside cools my feet
Which wear five day worn socks
In a thick shoe

She sheds a tear
But do not say a word,
It stings their broken rib

You're very brave,
A mother might say, or a grandmother
Or subsequently a lover

I am taking her to the museum
by the sea
Where it stands in all its glory
Proud, being the world's largest

and then,

Just like a snowflake
says the alien
As the diamond melts
In her small infant hand.

Children come, Children go

I walk to school
The path coldly glitters
Jack Frost has been out
Leaving his white shadow
In the cold
Which makes my ears burn,
(Dizzy)
And drunk on childhood
I stumble into a flower
Covered in fine frost
With ever so delicate a trace;
A fingerprint in ice on petal

The flower, not a rose,
Fore it should not be a rose,
I suppose was the same colour as her varnish,
When she pressed it,
A light green

But now, here, drunk on beer
It reminds me of you
It was your fingertip
And, with the songs I now know,
The colour of your colour,
... and
However many ___s later
It turns pale blue in the snow.