A frost of glittering speckles fleck the green
by Kirsty McGill
Expanse of thin, fibrous blades with capsule-
Bodied insects stretching their thread-legs clean
From the crystalline freeze. A gauzy tulle
Of cool air, dimly dyed by uncertain
Coloured light, is propelled across the warm
Nooks and cold branches alike. A light burn
Tickles the cheeks of those who fumbled, torn
Between morality and loneliness
In the antiseptic clarity of
Life outside the field, but within, found less.
Here, they are thick, insulated wires of
Feeling, pulsing like everything else, on
The mother’s board – a field – a pasture – a con.