Ann Pilling

I like my new mat with its biblical binding

its broad and undyed braid

such as might be worn by shepherds

and its dark smudges

are serviceable, absorbing mud.

I’m glad of it in this dead time

goodnaturedly receiving coldness

so my bare toes can spread.

This mat’s like sand. Across such wastes

kings came, following their appointed star.

It’s bigger than the old, more like a field, and those dark smudges

are the intensest blue.

In Spring they’ll bud and break

and the whole thing will become flowers

and I’ll gather them and that will be my offering

a posy for  the child that is to come.

Ann Pilling