Poetry by Amber Fayfox Kim

by Amber Fayefox Kim

My breath clouds the chilly winter air in the indigo world that exists in that precious moment just before the sun breaks the horizon. I can feel icy tentacles of cold invading my toes, fingers, and drafty jacket. A sliver of ocher sunlight stains the icicles on the razor wire red, a macabre prophecy for any foolish enough to approach. Clouds and snowdrifts dress themselves in oranges, violets, and indescribable greens in anticipation of the storm which is certain to come before nightfall. Eventually that great sphere of flame clears the horizon and forces me to turn away from the sight. Blueish afterimages burned into my retina the only thing not blurred by my tears. I try to blink them away and find the crystals frozen to my eyelashes. Plucking them with numb fingers brings pain, and clears my head. I resume walking the quarter mile circle that is the perimeter of my current cage with one last glance at the now empty horizon.