Spring : Jenny Rowbory

Winter is all around
 but in this glade 
 there is no ice or snow; 
 warm sunlight bathes us. 
 My hands are filled with soft white petals 
 that I shower over you like confetti; 
 they brush your cheeks as they fall, 
 melting into your skin, 
 coming to settle gently 
 upon the grief, loss and panic. 
 It makes the heavy feel light 
 for a little while. 
 Here it is safe to sing of 
 the hope of Outdoor Hair. 
 What if 
 the seasons are stuck for good
  this time 
 and Spring never comes.


We were never promised it would. 
 Our bodies are covered in the welts and bruises 
 from the kicks and punches 
 of that unmade promise, 
 the one we wish existed: 
 the guarantee of a certain Spring. 
 We are The Winter People 
 yet 
 our hearts are made of snowdrops.
-Jenny Rowbory 
( from collected poems of Jenny Rowbory ' We Are The Winter People' )