Slow Down Poem by Tony Jolley

Slow, down duvet
Hanging,15-tog heavy,
Hugging
The early morning valley floor
In its ephemeral embrace:
Smother than silk,
Softer than baby hair ‘gainst cheek.

Valley villages
Nestling still,
Cuddling down deep
Under the warm caress
Of their Sunday slumbers;
Hoping not to hear,
Trying not to heed
The call they knew would be
Shortly sounding
From every sainted steeple,
Resounding off the walls
Of consciousness and conscience
In search of that
Long-installed, ritual response
To its insistent invitation.

In stark contrast to this comfy lethargy,
Life above the snowline was
Crisp air,
Children shelling each other with snowballs,
The crump of snow under boot-sole
And squint-inducing, streaming sunshine.

Such a different day
On either side of the duvet.