Fire and Ice
` ` `
on fire …
with a silken face bouncing gently
in the bath of combed sunlight, her eyes open
like a newborn rose sprinkled by drips
of honeyed laughter; the sheer mist floats
into a world where robins wing around her feet,
as if to chase a meadow filled with morning
coffee scent… and she feels the natural brightness
of people humming violin tunes inside her head;
how she loves with arms knitting tender flames ,
a slow fire in the rush of breaths flowing in cool
breeze: lungs floating in and out between
the piety of her bones…she rambles along
greeting everyone she meets with a soft smile.
fire on ice…
she taste the tears of both wrath and liberation,
flowing down the sunken river in a hazy blur;
until she hears a voice,” rock –a-bye, baby girl”
silencing herself, unaware of her twin lives,
for her eyes cannot see the difference
between another time, another place
where elements of fire and ice cannot blend.
©
. ….. ..
for Yasmin Khan’s Dr.Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2012
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