Poems

John Greening: from Huntingdonshire Codices

from Huntingdonshire Codices   Thaw is also one of the gods, with strength enough to shift this boulder of ice off the path, save tender plants, or peel the tarnished plating from a grave.   Unloved, yet he it is who brings some colour into the negative, playing percussion solo over its tedious white noise. You think he’s shallow?   He’ll quickly show you travellers just how deep once it’s the marching season. Out comes the harp and soon you’ll be in floods, begging him stop.   His fellow sprites and nymphs prepare guerilla raids in collaboration with the trolls…

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