By Jenny Middleton
WINTER’S SCORE It’s easy to admire the skater’s bladed boot resting on her partner’s thigh, his hands firm on her waist hoisting her above the rink into glitzy, gaping lights carving the ice together with the arced geometry of dance few think of scientists, at the poles, drilling metal cylinders in to glaciers collecting the traces fallen things -- pollen’s sweat, snow compressed by mammoths a deluge of poisoned rain – racked with signs of change and how this shifts particles flaying memories like the swan – trapped that winter in ice and fishing nets its feathers beating sound from still air in flightless desperation or how a body aches long after the surgeon’s slice through skin blurring its dead, rutted scar amongst live veins no – it is easier to love what doesn’t scream -- a world that winks sequins and whispers soft, snowy songs to a tired audience sitting in the arena’s dark.
Jenny Middleton has written poetry throughout her life. Some of this is published in printed anthologies or on online poetry sites. Jenny is a working mum and writes whenever she can amid the fun and chaos of family life. She lives in London with her husband, two children and two very lovely, crazy cats. You can read more of her poems at her website https://www.jmiddletonpoems.com
PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL