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Photo by Mihai Lazăr

An Imagined Spring

We cannot see the hills,
this first day of our imagined year.

Grass feathers hide in frost;
hard to measure,
the shapes so variable
as one obscures the other’s form
in cold suspension.

Stillness, till
life rustling frozen leaves,
rat or badger or hungry fox
search for prey in shadowed corners
or scratch at ice-hard ground.

The pheasant shooters
cut the air.
Their echoes swirl the rooks
who rise on ragged wings,
black against the white;
unworldly forms.

This flat walled sky
renders frozen and opaque
the hope of Spring.
But on this first day
of our imagined year,
the idea still remains.

Adele Phillips lives with her husband in the South Downs National Park in the UK and spends part of each year on the island of Antiparos in the Aegean. Both of these beautiful and contrasting environments have a strong  influence on her poetry.


  1. Anonymous

    Adeles poem is evocative… Images of cold and hope of Spring..

  2. Name

    Je découvre ce soir la poésie d’Adele. Un bel instant de description de la réalité et s’arrêtant sur une note d’espoir. Merci Adele amg


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