Soft brown cloth
dimples, where the hood lifts,
as cloaked she
waits for you under the angsana.
The knotted trunk
rises, narrows
and dives into
the hole in the wall
through
shimmering edges of sleep-stone.
.
Lifting up and
out again, under the rafters, the tree
bark appears and
begins to splinter out into lean, sinewy twigs:
some reaching to
scratch gently against the house, and others
spread like
fingers reaching skyward.
.
Yellow flowers
lightly rustling, about to take flight,
and one takes off
from the tip of a branch
and floats gently
to rest
on the soft tip
of the cowl,
and she picks it
off gently with her fingers,
making you an
offering, in a pink palm.
.
A/N: Some questions I have for you, dear reader! Answer them if you'd like :)
1. What sort of feeling do the images convey to you?
2. Does your knowledge/ lack of knowledge of what an angsana tree is affect your reading?
Points: 97
Reviews: 967
Donate