For survival

For survival
That was a green locust by my pillow,
it wanted to escape the ice cold,
nugget on a small green leaved
food stuff in a micro oven dish,
I blew it up afar by my bedcover,

I saw it with my naked eyes
rest on a thick branch of
jasmine, white buds
about to be blossomed,
my quill visualises ten poems
on the ice lets, glassy,
I drew back blanket on my
face, quick interface with
the feel of a poem ,
a sudden hit on my forehead,
that is the frost hit locust
that was driven by the wind,
back through my door ajar.