Simon Armitage - Jan 10, Iyengar Sunday Fun

A well-known British poet, writing about his home on the moors of West Yorkshire. A collection of work over many years, inspired by his view from his childhood bedroom window. I remember the view from my bedroom window. Do you?

Snow

The sky has delivered

its blank missive.

The moor in coma.

Snow, like water asleep,

a coded muteness

to baffle all noise,

to stall movement,

still time.

What can it mean t

hat colourless water

can dream

such depth of white?

We should make the most

of the light.

Stars snag

on its crystal points.

The odd, unnatural pheasant

struts and slides,

Snow, snow, snow i

s how the snow speaks,

is how its clean page reads.

Then it wakes, and thaws,

and weeps.