Car Park, Christmas Eve
Red, quivered sky, first rain sign, blurred to purple,
drops rinsed around a glass before the rest.
Wrapped bottles clink. How unpoured wine tastes best.
Flashed by my torch, white petals,
fine rain which leaves no mark.
So this is our new winter,
roses in the dark.
Alison Brackenbury is a poet based in Gloucestershire. She is the author of nine poetry collections including “Gallop” (Carcanet) and the winner of an Eric Gregory Award.
[See also: The NS Poem: Mam Tor]
This article appears in the 08 Dec 2020 issue of the New Statesman, Christmas special