(I)

In North Germany with the giant toad. His lips flare,
As if demanding I remove my hat for him, which I duly do.
He wriggles in his seat. On all these journeys, all
These expeditions, the giant toad is always there.

Beyond Berlin

19/02/2010

Miles and miles of snow past Brandenburg
And the upraised anorexic pine trees
In careful rows. Each year, this land takes a muddy battering,
And emerges full of roses to the withering folk.