The east wind’s last blast we’re told or hope
before spring colours landscapes, clears skies.
Sparse traffic slides to a halt, although roads
still link these cities muffled with snow.
Deer tread delicately across white fields
and a fox in the corner of a wood
trots after its prey. The Danube,
close to breaking point, slouches
towards the Black Sea to be reborn …
From a restaurant window further south
I’m looking out on a well carved
into the landscape, the staggered roofs
that attest to endurance, a hint
of change in cloud patterns –
another visit to an ancient city
where, just as I’m leaving, sunlight
spills across the paving slabs.
