Grey February Morning. (Companion Poem to Early February Daffodils).

There are no birds, no insects, in this painting,
Just plum blossoms feathering silver grey boughs
Viewed against a blank paper sky.

Meanwhile the daffodils in my miniature garden
Point yellow spear tips at the crumbling wall
With the fierce intolerance of the very young.

When they are fully grown into bright trumpet stars
Their silent music will dance awake the sun
Now snug beneath a thick duvet of cloud,

Low lying cloud the colour of old paper
On which the Chinese Master sketched plum blossom,
But no moths, no arachnids, no soaring birds.

I have little love for this ancient fading picture.
I prefer the insolent spears of my daffodils.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
9th. February 2020.
Part inspired by the illustration for February on my Chinese Calendar.