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If the snow takes hold, my mother says,
she won’t leave her room at all,
She pavements could be
treacherous and,
despite her boots, her feet might slip.
Put the kettle on
and warm the bed.
As we pull away, the sky fills
with white feathers. I hitch my collar tight.
Sudden snowfalls from the east
drive westwards throughout the day.
Put the kettle on
And warm the bed.
At the lunchtime concert in the village church,
violins compete with fighters droning overhead.
Today the government announced
a task force heading for the Gulf.
Put the kettle on
And warm the bed.
In my heart of hearts, I keep alive
the white flame you lit in me.
Homeward traffic pounds the snow to sludge
as the streetlamps weakly point the way.
Put the kettle on
and warm the bed.
Norton Hodges
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