(Small Stone # 5)
It's so bitterly cold, but they stand at the gate, still. Waving, even though they can't see our hands through the darkness and the speeding car, still. Shouting back, even though they can't hear our goodbyes, still. Standing, in between the empty nest and the desolate road, still.
January 15
(Small Stone # 4)
Amid a jumble of socks and unfinished craft projects, a small sighting of a hand-written letter in black ink and warm love. Blogmate, friend, aunt, whale lover. Amid the debris of routine, I caress the creases out of promises and take a trip with her words.
9 comments:
Just in case they were contemplating "well they cant hear us anyway, lets get in from all the cold"
well it means standing for ten more minutes now, the least they can do after such a lovely post!!
sigh. Very satisfying to take trip with your words!
Lovely to have you back. Please don't disappear again!
How did I miss this? Because I am a fool that's why. When I take Nino whale scouting in the Pacific?
Nicely done!
it is very good.
tame kyaa khovaay gaya chho?
Blogging is that the new poetry. I notice it terrific and wonderful in some ways.
That is an especially good written article. i will be able to take care to marker it and come back to find out further of your helpful data. many thanks for the post. i will be able to actually come back.
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