circles in the sand
january spills its unwinterly bones all over the place,
and i recall another evening
with more thoughts and less silence,
when my palm was the innocent coffin of falling snowflakes
and when on my forehead january rested its hand,
heavy with dreams.
iced,
the cherry tree’s branches appeared like crystal jewelry,
polished by winter’s breath,
reflecting, prismatic, some diffuse nocturnal light.
back then, your oath
tasting like sugar glazed apples and cinnamon,
stated solemnly that i'd be the only one
with whom you’d share your sledge
(that white wooden marvel
which to me seemed to be pulled by the invisible horses of the wind –
i always bought that explanation from you, you know?)
the pact was sealed,
with a shy kiss on your cheek,
resembling porcelainish to my lips…
now the old cherry tree looks back to me,
recognizing my gaze along its branches,
while i’m pretending that it’s january’s fault for the sledge not sliding anymore,
because winter confined those invisible horses into its stables…
I was born in the month of Jan. I don't care to celebrate it because I don't wish anyone to travel out in the winter's cold. So, I just let another year slip on past on my journey. God bless
Lilian, the poem is very symbolic with nostalgic memories of those past blissful days ! Read your profile today ! Nice to know about the books published , hope to read some poems at a later date . Presently busy completing my Story of English part four , no one has attempted it verse till date before ! Will be posting it on this site shortly ! Best wishes & a happy New Year, -Raj