The Ash is common enough –
with keys the wind misplaces
and in winter, velvet leaf buds
that recall those long

black gloves I wore
to trace your trembling
outline – neck to hip,
and down a little more.

Its fissured bark is
a history of cuts, as if
the past can be cast off
like a worn out coat.

As green leaves fell
I glimpsed a woman
in the copse,
or maybe a hare.

Katerina Neocleous has been published in various poetry journals. Visit visionsfromhell.wordpress.com to see more of her work.