Snowing
Even when she's out of the room,
or asleep, she can feel the trembling
of sheets flung to the floor,
of rings she dropped to let in more air.
It's bad luck to guess another person's dreams
but what if it really had been snowing
across the bed and she descending,
as a blaze of white, a mirage,
a hand in front of her lips to shelter
the words coming in and out in waves
of astonishment. Her mouth working,
eating itself, like walking slowly downstairs.
Marion Tracy has two degrees in English Literature and was a lecturer in colleges of Further Education. She lived in Australia for seven years, where she started writing poetry. She is widely published in magazines and previously published a pamphlet Giant in the Doorway (HappenStancePress 2012). She lives in Brighton. You can find out more about here here.