Winter Spirits

The phone sleeps curled up
on the bedside stool
The lampshade hangs its head in shame
and sheds a sorrowful yellow
The blank face of the tv
like a baby on the hardwood floor
My mind looks out
from the attic it lives in.

The snowscape: an artist's impression
chalk on black paper
Footprints mar the white
where the dreams of yesterday
have trudged on and gone
smoothed over by the last snowfall
meteor-burns on a perfect ridgiform

The red light from a radio tower
spreads banded legs into the night
like a tarantula

Flakes swirl in the flash of twigs
around the streetlamp
like the flies of winter

Houses huddle down the lane
look out from under snow coats
clutched tightly around their ears
like rows of homeless men
Icicles hang before brooding windows.

The road glistens wetly
with its military stripes
The sky is aglow with that
mystery light of winter nights
And I wonder if it's only
passing cars and clouded breath

that roam these secret streets.

Syracuse (1994-1998)
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About Unknown

Sandaruwan Madduma Bandara is the CEO of 3CS (, Sri Lanka's Premier web design company. He has a range of interests including creative writing, photography, art and travel. He is also a voracious reader.
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