Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Where Is South From Here, Anyway?

I woke before the light, again.
Lying in the tallest and piled highest of beds.

The North of beds, it is.

The monsoons had started, and the dark.
The desert freezing, storming, raging.
Snow where you don't expect it...

But not white and bright,
Like Christmas snow.

Dark and slushy,
A Trojan Horse inside the trojan rain.
Birds freeze and fall,
as if they forgot

That they needed to fly south.

Where is South from here, anyway?

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