Only last week, its froth framed
this Welsh lane with a wedding arch,
a pair of willow warbler, the happy couple.
Meanwhile the virus was in hideous rise,
morgues appeared on football fields;
my body urged – feast on trees.
I am unreasonably tearful at the brown.
Crab apples begin their opening dance –
a polka of dark pink buds.
Days later, the hawthorn steps up.
Nature opens me to how it is –
with its cascade of little deaths.
Poem by Rose Rouse
Rose Rouse is an editor, poet and journalist. She had her pamphlet Tantric Goddess published on Eyewear in 2017 and created a book Wild Land of poems with paintings by her partner, Asanga Judge in 2019. In 2020, she was awarded a grant by Brent 2020 Culture Fund in London to form The Willesden Junction Poets in Residence, a book BeWILDering and films. @roserouse