Lifting This life is made of fence and brick; warped and crumbling. The late February sky, malaise-packed with heavy clouds, has finally cracked. Trees are worn, satchel brown, licked with ochre and rust, by nature's wonder-burnt tongue. The musky scent of wet wood, permeating. The red-orange flare of a robin, flickering. But look, lilac crocuses, petal pincers, sprouting in clusters, like tiny feet, magic circling tree roots, their amber stamens, spring's fireworks, waiting to ignite.
David Hanlon is a welsh poet living in Cardiff. He is a Best of the Net nominee. You can find his work online in over 50 magazines, including Rust & Moth, Icefloe Press & Mineral Lit Mag. His first chapbook Spectrum of Flight is available for purchase now at Animal Heart Press. You can follow him on twitter @davidhanlon13 and Instagram @welshpoetd