Untitled #12

by Nijole Miliauskaite

Nijole Miliauskaite

a cold evening, swollen painful
willow buds
migrating birds are
perched in the skeletons
of trees along the shore like great
black blossoms
a small reddish flame
there, far off, trembles in the icy wind
as if alive, near the water
a fire stoked by children
it's almost warmer, isn't it,
as we draw near

Last updated January 14, 2019