Written for a poet friend I”d just had lunch with, cringing and striding around Parker’s Piece. Only one bit of explanation is needed - proprioception is a sixth sense...

I was reminded today that some snow never melts.

As we trod green-thawed sun meadows,
And shivered into the salt-pan shadows.

We had laughed, breathing hard, and
edged our world with bright and worthy pain.

The plain level, the path ahead squinting,
We questioned our way in loops of small adventure.

We both draw warmth from dark days, greet
All weathers - sun and rain, wind and ice.

All gather their own gifts into our arms
Light or sound, texture, scent, or taste.

We touch fingertips in the pitch and between us
There will never be silence, or frost-decades,

There will never be scurrying, head down,
Feet unsure over black ice,

Only the warm gasp between laughs,
Highly-coloured explanations,
Bright eyes and lengthening tales.

Beautiful day.