Poem by Lily Swarn
Storm in a Snow Cup
Snow actually ignites flames
Never douses it like water does
It asks for a log fire outside a wigwam
And the blood of baying wolves
Snow seeks the smell of rotting flesh
To pile on yawning graves
Don’t be taken in by picture postcard snowmen
And bell jingling Santa sleighs
It’s Kargil heights and frozen lakes
Battling countries with warring ice
Why am I awestruck then ?
When mounds bedazzle my sunlit eyes ?
Copyright Lily Swarn 15.12.2020