Preternatural

Within a furniture store, labyrinthine trails
               wound through draperies of green. 
Oh the enticements packaged as tufted
               nests, aisles lined with luminaries
voluptuous as menageries. Beds with no 
               bodies in them, wrappers and quilts 
baroque with scrolls and windowpanes. 
              Glass blown into acorn shapes 
beckoning eternal winter, next to bins 
              of stuffed red pandas and raccoons. 
When we passed  back through the automatic 
             doors, the sky was ablaze like a high 
contrast movie poster. Every edge hummed,
             just short of a strident register.