LANCASHRING

for BC

Riding out of the ice crevassed rock.

Horwich, Buckshaw, Lostock Parkway

Every station stop is business.

Buckshaw, Lostock, Horwich Parkway

Midnight misting across like hail.

Lostock, Horwich, Buckshaw Parkway

My hands were lost in a mobile's light.

Horwich, Lostock, Buckshaw Parkway

Headlit motels at a taxi's halt.

Buckshaw, Horwich, Lostock Parkway

Fox eyes stared from a terrace window.

Lostock, Buckshaw, Howich Parkway

Railways unspooling from under wheels

Edale, Chinley, Grindleford, Hope

THE NEW PLACE

for TH

The new place is still an unpacked pile
of boxes, crockery lying in wait
wrapped in newspaper, a brown file
of tenancy agreements and contracts
that are signed and dated. The white
walls are uncluttered by jam-sticky hands
or crayons that count the kids' heights
in months, January — March — December.
The year opens like a front door
to a garden of blossoming flowers,
the roses uncurling like cats,
blown dandelion clocks exploding the air,
filling the bedrooms with fairies.
Nell, bouncing on bedsprings, captures a wish.