Winter is Dead

Cover of leaves

Swaying outside the window

As my mind sways Inside.

The wind on my face is soft

And tousles my hair ever so gently.

The lone thrush calls out plainly

And stops to listen when I mimic it.

A brightly speckled butterfly

Hovers above my head

Looking for the right perching spot.

In the distance, the phone beeps,

Breaking the lull.

I cannot be bothered to move.

The abounding peace is too infectious.

Meanwhile, an intense afternoon sunlight

Streams in from the West,

I look at the gold shaded drapes

And realise that Winter is dead.

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About Amrita Ghosh

About Moi - I like to think I am a simple person while most people tend to disagree. I like lots of things, sometimes quite contrary ones, a
This entry was posted in Daily Life, Experiences, healing, lessons, Life, melancholy, Musings, My Life, Nature, poem, Poetry, Random pieces of Moi, Random Thoughts, Reflections, Rumination, Seasons, Thoughts, Winter and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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