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.