PublicTransport PoeTry – #3



(Cas Meadowfield)

Warm coat, buttoned up to my chin,

Feet pushed into Wellington boots,

Woolly hat pulled down over my ears,

At last I’m allowed out into a white

World to play in winter’s gift ¾snow

That still falls from the sky. I hold

In my hand, to see closer, fluffy flakes

Full of six pointed stars, none the same.

Friends call and sudden coldness down

My neck makes me scoop up soft snow

To squeeze into balls to throw back,

Till gloves are sodden and hands tingle.

Snow drifts down on the wind. Snow

Ploughs struggle to clear roads. Buses

And school are cancelled. Shopping will

Have to wait as winter grips us tight.


Cas Meadowfield writes lots of things; both poems and stories from fantasy to mild horror. Born in Northampton, she now  lives in the North East of England, between Newcastle and Durham. Read more of her work on Authonomy.

About angelikarust

My name is Angelika Rust. I was born in Vienna in 1977. These days, I live in Germany, with my husband, two children, a despotic couple of cats and a hyperactive dog. After having tried almost every possible job from pizza delivery girl to HR consultant, I now make a living knowing English. No, I haven’t yet figured out what I want to be when I grow up, whenever that may be. In the meantime, I write the occasional book.
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