Midwinter light : poems
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Midwinter light : poems
Wakefield Press, 1995
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Description
Pruning Roses My father always pruned the roses ritually, showed me how to find the outside bud, to trim and shape and yet allow the plant to breathe and grow. We'd burn the prunings - green sap spat and hissed. I breathed the wood smoke in for life to mingle with my breath on winter days. I never can quite cut them down to size. Those winter hips, bright bitter lanterns travelling through the years. Midwinter light stands still. Ann Timoney Jenkin uses everyday subjects - from pruning roses to postcards, from grandchildren to graveyards - to show the extraordinary in our ordinary lives.
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