Unwelcoming Winter Poem by Emenike Ikolodo

A red footstool clutching at your sweater
When you strolled off the wooden plank
They smiled and you smiled back, loudly.
Tall and gentle, you tipped your damp keepsake hat,
And water and wind stuck to your thick hair
You shielded me from each frosty stabbing stare
From here to there is hot to cold

Our first winter: bitter as a stranger's face
Stained blood, red carpet and blankets of white snow
Blue frost peeled back your fingers and toes
I held on to the belt that ran between us

Planless, I wasted time playing with youth in paved streets;
Black-eyes and broken milk bottles as toys
Your love and hope guided me from copper-coloured danger
You told me about Eden
Don't think I don't remember

Now that you are old and frail
And lying still and cold in your cot
You are not too far from the end
I know your spirit yearns for home