Cudz
We are jittery anxious these days:
short frights, extended dread,
a far country, a worm in the head,
a moral maze.
Cuddle on the sofa, stroke the dog,
hold soft hands
whenever you can –
curtain off the fog.
Watch the news and weather forecast
for portents and signs,
buckled steel, leaves on the line,
questions asked
of God, of fire and frost and flood,
frailty and fault,
evil’s unnatural assault,
fast fading good.
Dread is a slow beast, far away.
There is still time
for sunshine,
for celandine days.