Edmonton airport

Sunday, January 21, 2018

Hope


white sky, white ground

she walks in a bubble

muffled in down, fur and denim

only a bit of face bare

frozen breath puffing out

black tree skeletons rise along the river

she remembers colours –

red lilies, blue iris, so many shades of green

far beyond the stratosphere hangs the blazing sun

a star that warms this pallid world

Note: I mostly write prose, but do dabble in poetry now and then. It's been a long, cold winter already. This came to me on a not so cold, but drab day. Comments and suggestions welcome.