(for Christine Anderson)
Anyway I dream of snowflakes flying
like cotton-balls in the tropical air,
of streets carpeted overnight with fallen snow
as if fields with hailstones in the monsoon,
and of people warm enough in furry jackets
with orange-blue umbrellas held on top
to stop snowflakes melting on their heads
like those folks somewhat dry in rain-coats
with tin-grey umbrellas carried overhead
to stop their hair getting soaked in the rain.
Sofiul Azam
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/things-are-not-poles-apart/
