Cedar

By Sheikha A.

The albatross settled like placebos
on her tray, for her to count her pills
before swallowed

the water she drank with it ruffled
neither above nor within;

the cedar that erected her playhouse
of red warmth and versatility

glossed like the candles
on her cake that sixth year;

the same red that carried a river
of desecrated tissue to her chubby knees

down to the ankles beaded with care
fully stringed bands of promises

(of friendships)

like the red-orange she tied
to his wrist of silvery webs

and curly billowing hair that she joked
if stuck by invisible glue on his balding
scalp, his arms wouldn't resemble those
of her hairiest toy,

the way they enveloped her undefined ingenuousness,

the night thud on the foaming blanket
in the iris of her eyes

overlooking the sea, the albatross landed like stealth

on wisp-ing harbours where the sea looked
calmer at dangerously deeper

but the waters remained possum --

lay there like the tree watching by her
house, mute glistening red of a summer's

unprejudiced focus to see buds sprout
in full thrusts

to spread their cedar-hue only to
watch a cold wing tear it away