Sometimes we feel joy.

It settles on us.

It’s like when snow has been

and you see the trees

with their branches lined perfectly

by thin trails of snow.

It’s not much

but it gives each one

this glimmering beauty.


Sure, it goes pretty quickly

but you remember it was there.

Those trees never seem the same again.


And that’s what we can do.

Seek the snow.


We’re not rooted to the ground.

We can go where it’s going to fall.


It may not be much

and it won’t always last

but you’ll never be as wonderful

as you are 

with that slight white line

wrapped around your being.


* * *




There’s an empty car

sitting in the penalty area.


One front door is open

and there’s a baby seat in the back.


It’s damp enough

for tyre tracks

not wet enough

for foot prints.


The game is delayed.


The ref waits for the guys

to arrive

and flicks through the CD wallet

on the front seat.


Michael Buble. Bruce Springsteen.

Total shit, the ref thinks.


By night the lights of the town

are just a red smudge

on the corner of the sky.


* * *




You will walk across

crummy Tesco car parks

in the rain.


You will be stuck

in the aisle

of a Ryanair plane

while someone

struggles with their bag.


You will spend

time worrying

that could be

spent preparing.


You will have flashes

of resentment

when loved ones



You will forget

novel names

film names

film plots

novel plots

song names

friend names

family names.


You will find poems


to the bottom

of shoes

that blister.


You will feel nervous

then triumphant

then proud

then strangely empty

then afraid.


You will sleep

so long

you will crave

more sleep.


You will turn


just as romance

passes on a bicycle.

You will miss things.


You will sulk,

eyes to your toes,

and catch the sun

splashing rainbows

nobody else can see.




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Jared A. Carnie won a Northern Writers Award in 2015. His debut novel, Waves, will be out in September 2016. He can be found here.