Two poems by John Myers

REBIRTH IS COMING

The sky is grey as dusk from here to far-
Away, my fingers stick to icy ground
As birds sweet sounds desert Leamington Spa
It skulks and shrinks beneath this winter’s frown
Which seeks to drain the earth of any drop
Of warmth or sap or smell or nurturing
The leaves are frozen thin they cannot stop
The laser knife of night from rupturing
The cabbage heart to rot before it boils
And yields its healthy portion as required
The blackened brambles lurk beneath the soil
Still sharp to tear my skin. I’m cold and tired
The days are short the time is long till spring arrives
When all will blush again as my spilt blood dries

John Myers

 

ON NEWBOLD COMYN

As I go running
And attempt to stay young
I pass a giant oak
Split open to its roots
Its trunk in splinters
Its branches far flung
Heavy and lifeless
No sign of any shoots
A gale too many
Has laid it awesome low
Its former dignity
Is rent and shattered
Yet from its remnants
It is easy to know
How it held its ground
That it really mattered

And when I go
When something blows me down
Will my body show
That I too was good and sound
Before they burn me up and scatter my ashes?

John Myers