Yellow

I hoped yellow things might save me

bought tulips and freesias, tied a ribbon to my

bed frame. I plucked the hearts from daisies and tucked them

in my pillow slip, drew the curtains wide and waited for full moons

and sunshine. I lost contact with my knees first, and then my

hips. Didn’t know a body could fall silent. The doctor prescribed

dandelions – fields full, ticking with thrips and hover flies

and when I found one I stayed for days, but more parts of me

fell away –knuckles, wrists. Memories began to fade. Perhaps

it was too late. The X-rays suggested I was whole, but

disconnecting, and I knew I should’ve welcomed yellow back

before, because it was my first love, and I left it,

and it transpires that yellow is vital.

Squirrels

Squirrels get up early when the grass is damp with dew,

they skip around on tiptoes so their paws don’t get soaked through.

They’re busy seeking conkers stashed safely since September

but squirrels seem quite scatty, and usually can’t remember…

where they carried conkers to on golden autumn days –

did they slip them under stones, or drag them to their dreys?

And so when spring has sprung, when the weather’s wet and warm,

they’ll be skipping round horse chestnut trees sprouting in my lawn.