One unnatural day I woke, breaking
ties with my lucid tambourine
dance ring—Sequoias round a rosy,
pocket full of sugar cubes.
My morning eyes open I saw
326 snowflakes come crashing from the sky. And that was it.
leaning out the window I stretched and opened my mouth to
catch a single star-flake. shooting straight through me, a black
flake pierced my tongue and struck the ground, leaving the taste
and pain of mascara in my mouth and an oily residue on the
frosted grass below
Inside I draw water and put the kettle on
Song:
Sugar and tea have restored the warmth in me
With afternoon eyes I wandered
into the day halfway with heavy wool
socks and a glowing cup in my hands.
Outside I walk for the park and am struck
emotionless by a rainbow wearing foundation, blush.
Inside I am a noughted tree and Rumi sings to me
Song:
There is nothing to see beyond natural beauty
In the evening the sun is sinking,
like my heart, glowing behind clouds
that come and cleanse everything I love
with heavy drops of warm rain.
And as the twilight thins I hold hands
with these friends and dance in time to the
rain playing the tambourine. The water melts
the sugar in my pocket and streams to the
ground as we circle the land.