GOOD MORNING, WINTER

A Poem

By Anjali Hiregange

Autumn came on summer’s hair
It left its wisps, here and there
Trailing white woods and browns
Melted into plush blue sound

Winter came, then winter came
Softly drizzled itself everywhere
On the heads of houses a silver sheen
In the grooves of barks and the paths that snaked
In the thrush and flush of evergreen fairs
Winter clambered into thin viny legs
Sometimes froze and sometimes would melt
Flawed yellow rivers ran over into lakes

We don’t have winter in the south
And yet I light its rosy candle
In the hearth of my chest.

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