Something strange, something unique sits upon a branch littered with holly
The snow blanketing the figure as it falls from the heavens
The clawed feet buried in the branch’s berries, drenching itself and the ground
In a sugary red. Something out of a novel
Eyes of reddish ink stare outward towards the sky in tired fascination
As if looking towards the sky would bring that ink to paper
Snowflakes dance around its halo, making patterns and designs
Like the cover on a novel
The freezing breeze puts the figure in a comforting ease.
Pulling a breath of keys into the locked air.
Finding the action brought no results
Its body tilted back against the branch, dripping down from its still place
Head twisting to stare into my soul with a hard red that could form the torn pages of a novel
My body stills as the brittle snowflakes land on the top of my head
Threatened to be melted by the overexerted cogs in my brain
Those eyes reflect deeper than mirrors, deeper than ponds swimming with
Red and white koi fish representing the duality of novel ideas
Shivers ripple down my back. separate from the hit of snow against my nose
Noticing the roundness of that stare, the sharpness of that gaze
Noting the stillness of that gaze, the deepness of that stare
I can only feel empty as the figure flies away, a flash of red covered feathers
It will be the muse of my next novel
Because it was where I found red snow.
The snow blanketing the figure as it falls from the heavens
The clawed feet buried in the branch’s berries, drenching itself and the ground
In a sugary red. Something out of a novel
Eyes of reddish ink stare outward towards the sky in tired fascination
As if looking towards the sky would bring that ink to paper
Snowflakes dance around its halo, making patterns and designs
Like the cover on a novel
The freezing breeze puts the figure in a comforting ease.
Pulling a breath of keys into the locked air.
Finding the action brought no results
Its body tilted back against the branch, dripping down from its still place
Head twisting to stare into my soul with a hard red that could form the torn pages of a novel
My body stills as the brittle snowflakes land on the top of my head
Threatened to be melted by the overexerted cogs in my brain
Those eyes reflect deeper than mirrors, deeper than ponds swimming with
Red and white koi fish representing the duality of novel ideas
Shivers ripple down my back. separate from the hit of snow against my nose
Noticing the roundness of that stare, the sharpness of that gaze
Noting the stillness of that gaze, the deepness of that stare
I can only feel empty as the figure flies away, a flash of red covered feathers
It will be the muse of my next novel
Because it was where I found red snow.
JAZIRRAH DAVIS-CARTER
