Those brumal vaults of heaven

The skulduggery

A dispiriting brutal season

Needs no crier

There is nothing precious

In these northern climes

Predictably ashen and raw

The sun shall not cross

The plane of the equator

Just yet


Rain habitually decanting itself

Cruel volleys

Descending arrows

The field of Agincourt 

The sky above

Fancies a change of clothing

Something more flamboyant

If only for a fleeting moment


Daylight is dwindling

The restless grey sea grumbles

Doing battle

With the pull of the moon

The concrete pier

The hardiest of fishermen use it

A charcoal drawing 

This day


Yet something is there

Sense it before seeing it

Despite streaming eyes

Tearful manifestations

Of cold cruelty

On the horizon


Across the water

A glimpse of bare ankle

To the puritanical Victorian

The outline of Calais

Framed in citrus lemon 

An inverted yoke

Chalk white centre


An erotic gift

Small pleasure

Lifts the heart a little


Struggling to keep balance

The pitiless wind

The rubble of the shoreline

Return to the promenade

Promenade of sorts


And long to be back in France

With my lover at my side


15 thoughts on “A GLIMPSE OF BARE ANKLE

  1. Great poem, had the power to transport me, thank you Mike. I have nothing right now, the college basketball playoffs and the fights on all weekend, I just watched and “took in” as opposed to giving out. I shall try to get back on track this week. Thank you again, hope you feel better.

      1. Yes my beloved Kentucky Wildcats upset the # 1 team, hahahaha! Oh, nothing like an upset to help reclaim bragging rights! Oh, my fighters won, too.

  2. Absolutely OUTSTANDING! My friend, this poem is beautifully written with a masters use of imagery that warmed my heart with deep feeling. Just masterfully done. It is the best poem of yours I’ve read yet. I am truly impressed.

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