Poems from Lure

chionphobia

When you stepped outside and saw the garden gone
the roof iced like gingerbread, windows shrunk to peepholes
fence posts ermined, when the boundary between grass
and path was no more than guesswork, when the pavement
oozed on to the street and neighbourhood cars stood rooted
like broad flat shrubs; when all detail had been erased
all colour smothered and the daytime sky had grown darker
than the land - in your mind's whiteout, an avalanche.