A blue cat is quivering
inside a recumbent statue's eye
Its wintry eyeball
a bleak shelter to her
She ponders to be grabbed
by a cypresse that soars around
But she dares not
to attempt the leap
You see...
the statue is fastened
to a bony finger
And the height at the firnament
is tremendous
So she remains dormant,
snared to the will of time

Some pewter birds flying above
Celebrating their capability to fly