Poetry
In Between Orange Streetlights
Prose Poem
In between orange streetlights, trees stand dark and naked, like giant, frozen spiders.
I close my eyes and feel the stinging cold and see a carpet of moss, leaves, and tiny crimson flowers.
An icy stream trickles down the green lushness and into the clear pool below.
Koi fish, cherry and white, circle around my legs and waist and then disappear in a flash of light.
I stumble onto the shore, the sand burning my toes, seashells crunching underfoot like shards of glass.
The air is filled with birdsong, and a red-chested finch flashes before my eyes.
A grey skyscraper towers above me, its top lost in the smoky mist.
A car flies past and a frog-coloured leaf suddenly falls to the ground with a deafening thud.
I slowly open my eyes again — in between orange streetlights, the trees stand dark and naked, like giant, frozen spiders.
