A Soft poem.

Autumn closes its door,
and winter arrives
like a train slowly pulling
into a station.

I take out the book
tucked under the mattress
and sit by the window
with a hot cup of tea,
my legs snug
inside the warm yellow blanket.
It is time
to allow myself
the rare indulgence
of drifting through the walls
of your mind.

I open the book slowly
with a look
of almost reverence,
and look at your words
lying there.
They stir before my eyes
like they’ve been woken up
from a deep slumber.

I gulp down
the soft words
of your poem.
They taste like deep sighs.
Outside, snowflakes dance
in the air,
and the trees are already wearing
a coat of snow.
The cold is enough
to freeze my fingers,
but my heart is aglow
with warm memories of us.

Until next winter, my dear.
Until next winter.

-Rupali Jeganathan | The Girl Lost In The Bookstore


Hi, everyone! It has been so long. I completely let my blog slide, because life got in the way. But now I’m determined to be active. I missed you all, and I’d love to hear how you all have been. 🙂

19 thoughts on “A Soft poem.

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