Nothing to anger the blood
A slow breath at morning,
The day ahead,
Unwelcome but necessary
The light is washed out
I don’t welcome the resemblance
But we know different
I am calm,
Set in accepting opposition.
What will the pressure teach you today?
And my goals?
In my pocket, warm and fed
Nurtured against the last traces
Of winter
Stubborn in remaining
But soon we shall leave
With bellies full of
Temple
Food
MB Blissett 