cold night in worcester park

a plane noses down toward heathrow
heads in from the chiswick line-up
winking across the line of orions belt

the dog star lurks low behind
a chimney pot across the avenue
baleful perhaps though hidden

my breath drifts to the garden fence
a fox barks somewhere near
a hard frost settles in the grass

and a few leaves stiffen

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©Art of the State