Converging like trains,
friends from across the country
in a London pub

An alarm clock for
sleepy Friday afternoons:
the brakes of the train

Turning down the amp
between the blasts, I wonder
how feedback begins

Your blue coat, black tights,
denim skirt, black Converse make
rush hour perfect.

A girl flicks her hair,
wipes a drop from her forehead;
it's not even March

It penetrates walls,
brings the whole house to a pause,
cats' conversation

Wonky stepping stones
jutting from the water like
Ronaldinho's teeth

The end of winter:
not the sun melting snow, but
my baby smiling

February sun –
one instant after dozing,
a tiny summer

What is in that change
of face when people see we're
carrying guitars?

Against the winter,
vivid unknown red-haired girl,
you grow more alive

A winter morning,
a plain girl eats an apple
with perfect sureness

A man at the bar
ponders the pub's new desserts.
"Eton mess? What's that?"

The tunnel ends – now
snowy hilltops screened in cloud;
the whole train draws breath

Lost at the football,
speeding through north Lincolnshire,
blank as the landscape

If you could get close
enough you might hear the ice
cracking like rosebuds.

Freezing band practice:
on my cold guitar strings, my
singing condenses

Ice everywhere else,
town becomes a trapping ground
for stability

Alone at the stop –
are the buses all cancelled
and no-one told me?

Multitasking girl –
while waiting for the bus, she
applies mascara

Shivering bus queue
thinking of a word that means
'the end of the thaw'

Ships on the Humber
glimpsed from my cold back row seat –
you're missing the match!

Looking out at five,
disproportionately glad
just that it's still light

The snow-packed roof creaks,
the central heating wheezes,
and we are silent.

The flash of the wok,
my dinner cooking inside,
the flash of her smile

Snow changed the city –
half a million people are
stumbling silhouettes

Pretty girl on a
snowy morning, your coat the
colour of sunshine!

The first few snowflakes
were shy; now the blizzard has
no inhibitions