Women's Christmas

It was twenty five years ago
just beyond the wedge of winter
that comes early where warmth

from off a wild ocean meets

red rocks of our ancient coast.

On the morning of Nollaig Na Mna
or just before it,

in the brown earth
at the foot of a wall

I was surprised
by a frail yellow thing

'gainst a gush

of calloused green.

A tender whispish first outbreath
of the soft wet ground carried

on its pale, low-sun filled face
the whole of the spring

and summer flowering that follows.
Untamable thing

plucked would not last a hour.

now after all this time the scent

of rosemary on your skin and

on my time hardened hands,

join the primrose

signals of the end of winter,

frail promise of spring