Winter Sky Sonia Tan On the horizon of the paper-thin sky, shadow buildings fill the skyline
The sky, almost white, with just enough blue to call it grey From the window—miniscule, rolling waves, barely perceptible from the brick ledge A ship slowly wends its way downriver, leaving white, white, white in its wake The water, almost a mirror-glass, the greys and blues and whites of the winter sky Closer to the shore, the mirror breaks, rippling with skyscrapers and sea-glass green The frolicking waves beckon and tease, lurching restlessly under the icy docks Shimmering with the muted light of the clouded sun Holding a mirror-world full of mirror-skies and mirror-boats and mirror-cities and mirror-people A mirror-universe where the lines are so blurred, it’s barely a mirror at all But clear enough that the city’s outline is unmistakable Just clear enough To hold the winter sky
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