Ivy
let’s catch sight of ourselves:
bones, brickwork and ivy
getting ever more tangled.
as green shoots descend,
clinging to the structure
of rising walls and rolling days,
then sometime in years,
when vines and stones
are one and the same,
when we both seem to shake
in the frosty breath of winter
and in summer’s dusty haze:
we will see ourselves,
in brickwork and ivy,
grown softer and much older.














