Love symbols spoken in a Chinese winter
I am grown tall in the telling of the yellow
that the dance leaves a signal for,
finishing the ridge in a luminous squall,
wanting your white elk-breath and the hoof-pound
at my door. I am the first blade turned black in winter
curled blunt; red-throat-berry-threading the snow.
I am the first blade turned black in winter,
twisting under, green-blade-wanting.
*Poem by Helen Pletts
whose two collections, Bottle bank and For the chiding dove, are both
published by YWO/Legend Press (supported by The Arts Council) and
available on Amazon. ‘Bottle bank’ was longlisted for The Bridport
Poetry Prize 2006, under Helen’s maiden name of Bannister. You are
welcome to visit www.stem-of-quietly-disarrayed-fertility.com.
*Image by Romit Berger who says “I am a graphic designer. I met my very dear friend, Helen Pletts, in Prague, several years ago. Helen’s inspiration has led my graphic design career into that magical realm which combines illustration and poetry, and our creative wings continue to connect our souls through time and distance.”