Sweet Rhythms of Winter.

Once proud Pine, King of the lounge,

garden dumped, slumped,

redundant Christmas tree,

frozen arms, thumbs.

Needled myrtle coat,
thread-bared to russet.

Clogged by flawed festive bulbs,

whispering between themselves,

teased by sleet soaked
tinsel twirls,

still breathing…

Stung by freeze-mint air.

A dolly, felt tip tattooed,

her body ached and throbbed.

Mute of giggles, hair
rag-tagged,

deep garnet dress, faded thin,
drab.

Lost shoe, lost shawl,
lost soul.

Glass eyes, tears captured in time,

snowflakes cling to lashes of copper...

She looks like a Linda.

White powder sizzles under ghost-grey Earth.

Empty pockets decline, decay

as baby blooms inhale first breaths.

Mummified mushrooms,
cinnamon, saffron,

thread through crayoned grass, a patchwork mat.

White Crocus flamingly flap open,

their flared frocks bunch as one…

A diamante disc.

Freezing Breezes curl in flurried globs

in Winter’s fairy-talegarden,

as sweet rhythms cradle

and swank

a silhouetted twilight.

​Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

​'Angel' by Gowri Sankar. 2011.