Putrid, like burnt ice
Stale breath of winter night
Rose from the freezing ground
Spreading up to the trees’ heights
The sheet of stars over the velvet sky
Dimmed and fogged by the sighing air
Twinkling with half-hearted shine
Hardly visible to the earthly eye
The rising fumes of cold
Knitted in the white tresses
Of snow-decked trees
Obliterated the distant outlines
Of houses with a warm fire
In the misty light of street lights
He walked with steps wary and shy
With his hands clutching the woolen warmth
Inside the pockets of his new overcoat
A surprise gift from a golden heart
To lessen the suffering of homelessness.
Nosheen Irfan © 2016
All Rights Reserved
Leave a Reply