A FROZEN FEBRUARY IN WALES
Yesterday in Brecon a barn owl, screeching out her hunger to the ink black night, landed on a frozen line,
And, as four hundred volts passed through her undetected,
a veil of icy particles, that floated down
to a frozen ground
already white and dusted with fine snow.
Following this line some 85 miles, – this line
That generates a billion plus of sterling corporate profit,
This same line
beneath the same frozen sky of leaden snow,
Two men, in an abandoned Cardiff depot, lean against a pole
Furtively sharing a pipe
of crack cocaine;
seeking a comfort, that hungers still for more.
Settling, they soak in what love and heat their bodies offer the other
Under a blanket and tarp, that even in this frozen air, emanates the slightest odor of stale piss.
And in their sleep they hope their night will pass, for once, unmolested.
Two miles away retail outlets burn and blaze their profligate profits into the empty night.
I.M. Jan 18