Demonic Snow Poem by Nan Williamson

demonic snow

I´m not mollified by sunrays
striking green bottles
swirling, crystal goblets, stems up

on a red linen towel.
The flame still flickers, catches
gold leaf, smothers.

Black ashes fall. Demonic snow.
Sharp punch of panic, heartbeat wild
no one sees the thrashing arms

waves break crash overhead
Tosca´s song does not console me,
nor oven´s warmth, baking bread,

my Siamese cat curled in the yellow chair,
nor green pears touching
in a deep blue bowl.