In-between – New Poem (First draft)


We are in a place between winter and spring.

Our spirits don’t know what they’re doing,

nor do our heads,  as the wind, rain, snow and sun

throws tantrum after tantrum.


I want October, with its rich nights,

thick with the scent of the collected harvest.


Everything is getting in the way,

nothing is in its right place,

everyone is unsure about where things are

and where they are going,

except the earth, which knows this chaos well

and will recover.