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That Inclement March.

By Peter Robinson.

we were following the plough’s tractor tracks
in slushy ice where a salting of snow
here, as it fell, picked them out in white shadow
like dust on the broken Large Glass
or, for that matter, aerial photos
locating an ancient metropolis foundations …

Melt-water icicles were hanging from the eaves.
I had already fallen in the snow,
was feeling bruised; with her weak-hearted breaths
my friend began to slow
past evergreen leaves; still, on we’d go,
and quick enough not to catch our deaths.


Peter Robinson‘s most recent collection of poems is The Returning Sky (Shearsman Books), a Poetry Book Society Recommendation in 2012. In 2013 he published Foreigners, Drunks and Babies: Eleven Stories (Two Rivers Press) and a chapbook of new poems, Like the Living End (Worple Press).

Portfolio: This is one of six new poems published in June 2013 in the Fortnightly Review.

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