This is a sad but timely reminder to keep an eye on our neighbours this winter.

Did You Know We'd Had Snow?

Did you know we'd had snow?

And your curtains were still closed

when I looked out at eight o' clock.

Their dull, beige lining reflected the sun

as it shone upon the white, glistening path

which leads to your back door.

Did you know we'd had snow?

And the early Primroses peeped from their leaves

when I looked out at nine o' clock.

Their petals closed against the cold, still air

which made my breath form a mist

as I carefully crossed the frozen lawn.

Did you know we'd had snow?

And the Dunnocks scrabbled beneath the Hydrangea

where I'd tossed crumbs at ten o' clock.

Their brown, ruffled feathers kept them warm

as they picked their way between Snowdrops,

that hid beneath the snow laden Oak.

Did you know we'd had snow?

And the Co-op was empty that frozen morning

when I went to buy Hovis at eleven o' clock.

The misted windows showed the remains

of Christmas tinsel, and the closing times

obscured by an advert for Lotto.

Did you know we'd had snow?

And I watched clouds gather outside my window

as I ate my cheese sandwich at twelve o' clock.

They hung overhead and blocked the sun's rays,

as the Primroses shrank into their leaves again

and the Dunnocks fled to find shelter elsewhere.

Did you know we'd had snow?

And I saw the ambulance outside your door

as I watched fresh snow falling at one o' clock.

You lay on a stretcher, in blankets and foil,

your face hidden among the swathes

as with worried eyes, they took you away.

Did you know we'd had snow?

And we stand by your grave with its mound of soil

while Father Thomas says prayers at two o' clock.

We call ourselves neighbours, though we hardly speak

as we go about our lives, not interfering.

What more can we say? How could we know?

Did you know we'd had snow?

Take care, Kath xxx