Anticipation of spring is like the flopsy fingers
left to mischief,
fantasy that folds our time.
This cut weather.
We rest on pillows amidst a flurry of bird wars – a
channel-billed cuckoo, that itinerant other
is hunting for a magpies’ ruin their
eggs supplanted by size & rancour. But
we people belong, don’t we? Turning poems. Immobility
& its dainty flowers,
wealthy in sequester.
For me, hurry would be surrender,
will wash away the foundation
that June built with such bluster.
Victory is certain
so we snuggle
Les Wicks’ 11th book of poetry is Sea of Heartbeak (Unexpected Resilience) (Puncher & Wattmann, 2013). Wicks has been a guest at most of Australia’s literary festivals, toured widely and been published in over 300 newspapers, anthologies and magazines across 20 countries in 11 languages. He runs Meuse press, which focuses on poetry outreach projects. http://leswicks.tripod.com/lw.htm