Lights hung strung under the night, haphazardly
Against the robust silhouette of a sleeping land
Like tangled christmas strings that never blink and never change.
They were doused and swallowed black, one by one as the evening aged
And waned into dawn.
The lingering moon yawned, taking the night into its pearl circumference.
Heaven was warmed by the sun;
Yonder lazing star that sedated the moon and its glinting children
Until nothing was left but the cotton exhales of the day
Leisurely billowing by.
January mornings should bless me with wings
While there is dew and light I would want for nothing
For I could join in under the fire of the east
While my home sleeps
In the cold shadows of the first dawns of the year.
By Rohini D. James
Copyright January 2015
All Rights Reserved