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  • Writer's pictureRED

SULTANA



Snow falls in the morning

And I sink beneath the horizon

With the moon in my pocket

And shimmering rubies

To lay out like stars an empyrean bazaar

A prophet who shifts twinkling things

And dreams

Then reads the lines in between

Like when snow falls as gems do

Who spilled from a chest

Still bleeding

Yet beating

In frost covered fields

With garnets congealed

A pomegranate drips

Scattered seeds amongst the star-lit field

A twilight blooms

Just as the chatelaine croons

And the nightingale coos

A woman reflects amongst her pythonic jewels

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