She studied the snow for days,
Hoping she could go and
When she stepped on the plane
The frog chorus was playing.
Keeping us warm in the night.
Up into a dead-of-winter
Pitch-black morning sky
Ready to drop out at any moment
Like a hep cat jazz band.
As the light grew, clouds below
And a snow-coated Wales
Strings of orange lights like
Roads of lava through icing sugar.
After landing she thought about
(How she could just slip away
And find another ride to another place –
Slip away like a ghost from another place
And she knew then that there was no other place.)
She finished home and soon it became
On Christmas morning she stood in
Her childhood bedroom wearing pyjamas
And across the garden and through a window
She watched a boy she knew as a child.
Tall. Naked. Muscular.
She remembered none of this.
His pretty girlfriend appeared and kissed him
Once for familiarity and once for intimacy.
And then they both turned and
Looked straight at her and she
Blushed and rushed downstairs.
Later she took herself out
Amongst the snow and thought
About warm things whilst her
Cheeks turned red, not with
Blushing embarassment but
With crisp and tender cold.