Tuesday 9 February 2010

Withering away like the leaves in winter
The dry air brushes across
Taking strands of memories,
Spring waits to see how long will winter continue
Something snaps.
A twig beneath my foot,
Decayed, let not yet ready to die
It registers its protest
A stray leaf falls off a branch
Like a stray thought that wandered into my mind
Or a purposeless game in the journey of life

2 comments:

  1. Spring isn't far behind. The flowers have already started popping up their heads. Amazing sense of timing they have. :)

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  2. U shud get dem published...they could be part of good literature some day

    ReplyDelete