December

IT’S late December

And another year has gone by

This decadence -

A fall, these accouterments of melancholy

Bohemian dreams of

Pristine waters

 

Iridescent skies shined for months, then bent -  

bent until they pushed us down

Into deep winter

Snow and ice and slush

Such despair – a gloom

 

Then it roared howling through cold nights

Neglected all this while, marooned in some corner

Along the wildly swaying pines

 

And people,

They had colored the night

Festooned it even

Perhaps they had seen something I hadn’t.

--

Anant Dhavale
Coyright@ Anant Dhavale