The heron clutches the edge of an abandoned dhow
a gleam in its eye as a slow ripple forms

Cuddling wisps of clouds edge near
to orange splotches of a sunny prelude

Cold trees turn their spiky crowns
away from snow clumps on grassy lashes

Death breathes down the nearest bare neck
standing a lot closer than sleep

A fallen angel sheds its archaic wings
and hangs itself as a white dendrite

The fake morning glow vanishes
in another swirling white mist

A tree looks pointedly at imaginary blooms
its nudity grabbing at snow flurries.

©Reena Prasad 26th jan 2013

To be published in scaling heights

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