13 November 2015


One of those frigid-finger beginnings today - not 
exactly freezing, although in a way the simile all 
but rendered redundant; why does frost have to 
be evident before we can gaga and blench - the 
nose dribbles anyway; there’s as much wisdom 
in the nose as the fingers, and on a cold day its 
supposed their mutual ‘assent’ is an equilibrium 
you’d have tried to invent to insist you survive 

Tho th' sun has a say, its as a proponent with a 
put mildly, liberal, opinion playing a missing-key 
denouement exactly, &, as such, by rising to an 
event but post the occasion is solar’s way to be 
freed such responsibility - a role comfortably in 
tune with our frigid-fingered accompaniment 
© 5 June 2015, I. D. Carswell