Warmth in Winter.

After a Brazilian.

So I found my Warmth in Winter...Still,

As its the only way to Chase a Chill away

when the Snow is set so White as to Kill me as I

Enter there,

Where Everything is so quiet that its only the

Sound of my Pointshoes that

Crunches on Ice & I go,

I go towards each Pose as if it Belongs there

in the Snow.

Rise & Fall, Swurve & Call with my Body that

still Remembers the Spring

& Holds Summer in its Heart.

Then as it Curves around itself, it finds the

Prints of the Leaves Beneath

Fossilising into the Sound

Fossilising Underneath itself into the Background

& the Mist Breathes Frost around the Picture

to Freeze it to a Tree & Stop -

there is a Moment to Be

Myself in Movements of Isolated Grace,

White Shaking Skin & Frozen Veins

Strapped to a Trees branch, whilst the

Winter Advance -

A Snowy Flurry of

Bright

White, swept all around my Feet, above the Muddy Undergrow -

Was I,

On the Sheet White Snow just a Moment Ago.

I Love this Deco, the Memory

of Time, Content to stay in tune with

the Dancer there Today.

Her Structure & Charity

Her Minus Zero Degrees

of Reality.

Pano [43933]-0I0A7225_0I0A7234-004.jpg

Written in Lockdown

Inspired by this thread of Pictures I did with Chris Ennis Photography & the Idiocracy of my own Nakedness in Winter.