Where Ideas Grow

A blog for students of creative writing at York St John University

Sometimes, there is no spring

Sometimes, there is no spring
Sometimes, there is only
the shivering scarves
and the slow-black
of the funeral march.

Still willow tree people
           bowed,
in the chill-white church;
smeared mirror memories
distorted,
as the now is too much
for clear
and clean reflections.

Sometimes, there is no spring
Sometimes, there is only
the fingerprint-pink
of final embraces
and farewells.

Layer on
Layer on
Layer of wedding cake marks
something borrowed,
something bruise-blue,
Spirit rituals
haunt a love new.

Sometimes, the hope-green
of new flowers doesn’t break through
the brambles and barren soil
of the better left forgotten,
And sometimes, there is no spring

Josh Brittain


Josh Brittain is a third-year Creative Writing student originally from Torquay but is now living in York. He wrote this poem thinking about a funeral he is writing about in his dissertation and the end of a recent relationship. Linguistically, he took inspiration from the opening of Dylan Thomas’ Under Milk Wood

Photo by Ricardo Gomez Angel on Unsplash

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