Such sudden change of season here
a thick blue spruce the only relief
from this snow blind world
of white everything.
My mind spirals back to a stone
path in Spain flanked with colours
awash with length of heat, a taste
of hollowed out melon filled with port.
At sunset, a rush of tide and we ran
to the balcony thrilled at the sight
noise and force, push and pull
musical suck of water into sand.
Sound of a shovel hitting ice
wakes me and I know -
I will always be turning corners
to never find you.