Cold Winter – #43 of 365 Poems

Cold winters when dust is heavy
with morning Dew.

When you wait for sunlight peer
through your old curtain folds.

When you have a kettle that does not blow
but gives out a forgotten hiss.

You search for who is in your bed
and find that you are alone.

Are all cold winters same way?
heavy, dark, forgotten and alone?
Or may be it is all the opposite.
Because they say, you don’t know what is outside.
You only feel it inside and that too
an inverted image on your retina…

So it should be all the opposite.

Categories: Poetry

Tags: , , , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: