(it seems our normally very brief winter will be briefer this year)
Gliding through the mist
Winter alighted
On my palm-
It held in its beak
A marigold promise
Of staying long-
Its plumage not as bright-
Eyes listless
feet, in fear-
In a feeble chrysanthemum note
It crooned into my ears
About the lost bees-
Then I don’t know why
It threw all its song into the fire
And left me to a pitiless sun so soon-
Posted for Susan’s Midweek Motif ~ Climate Change @ Poets United
sumanar/lekha 