Diagnosed
We stayed
the night,
and left you as chilly Dawn
broke a pale yolk above
an empty car-park.
Groups of birds flapped in trees,
like strips of black sky
torn by barbed branches.
A week into Spring,
and now its starting to snow;
perhaps the year's heard your news,
gone mad-
shuffled its seasons
to end in May.
Copyright © 2001 Christopher Major
