Coconut ice

Image courtesy of Pixabay

The sky is coconut ice.
A robin bursts with song,
Sharp and vortexed.
How does he not freeze?
Not tumble through the stiff bareness of the elder,
Fragile feathers catching at twiggy spurs –
A small ball of puffed air and folly,
While I mince on the shined sandstone
Sprinkling a safe salty path.


4 thoughts on “Coconut ice

  1. “How does he not freeze?” I’ve often wondered that, wondered what furnace breathes in those little chests, perhaps just “puffed air and folly”! Singular lines, Marion, for these wintry days.

    Liked by 1 person

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