The Unicorns by Sarah Das Gupta

In the half-light I saw them first:
galloping through strands of grey mist
which drifted wraith-like across the fields,
their hooves leaving light imprints
on the cushioned grass.

Their chiselled white heads, disembodied
floated past in the growing gloom
as if propelled by some strange force.
Their white manes mingled with the mist,
like drifts of snow floating on the wind.

Their white tails blew out behind them,
framed, outlined by the surrounding darkness.
Single silver horns, banded by circles of gold
impaled the drifting wisps of mist
with proud assurance.

They galloped towards the dark fringe of the forest
under the brooding, threatening pine trees.
The sound of a hundred hooves now silenced
by the green carpets of the winter pine needles,
a ghostly herd.

Waiting beneath a stand of great oaks,
the pale Queen of the Northern ice fields
held aloft a golden bowl exquisitely engraved
with polar bears, walrus, seals and Arctic wolves,
an object of impossible beauty.

The unicorns encircled her,
knees bent in dutiful obeisance.
Above in the bare, stark boughs,
white birds perched
like great powder puffs.
A horn began to sound.



Sarah Das Gupta is a retired English teacher from near Cambridge, UK. She taught in India, Tanzania as well as the UK. As the head of department, she was often charged with overseeing the English section of the School Library and purchasing books.In most schools she was also responsible for stocking class libraries. She started writing this year after an accident which kept her in hospital. Her work has been published in many magazines from twelve countries, including US, UK, Australia, Canada, India, Germany, Croatia and Romania. Writing has given her the challenge and drive to learn to walk again.

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