Spring, Tomorrow
Bring spring into your home
IKEA proudly declares. There
are only rabbitless fields now,
a night zipping up its coat
and rubbing its hands together.
Owl eyes aren’t television sets
advertising better times ahead.
Every tree is an empty street.
The advert on your phone hypnotises
you to accept the diorama is real:
Daffodils spray painting the room
with their lurid yellow. Fox cubs
emerging like unexpected lines
in a poem. Hares playing peek
a boo with the delicate lace of clouds.
A bedspread of wildflowers. Pinch yourself.
Pinch yourself this is real. A lamp
turns on, the store assistant’s face
wolfing away to winter’s empty lockers,
all your unfulfilled promises turning
into stony rain.
Christian Ward is a UK-based poet, with recent work in Southword, Ragaire, Okay Donkey, and Roi Faineant. Two collections, Intermission and Zoo, available on Amazon and elsewhere.
