The woman who heard too much
She woke suddenly in the dead of night,
terrified by the clamour outside.
Tearing back the velvet curtains,
she recoiled at the sound of giant snowflakes
crashing to the ground like cluster bombs.
On the far horizon,
below the steel grey bank of bulbous cloud,
a thin lemon slice of a moon
screeched around its rusty track
like a tin duck at a fairground.
Hands over ears, she swung around
to the plumped pillow on the far side of the bed,
remembering too late the storm
that followed the half-heard
whispered phone conversation in the kitchen.