Dark Tales of Winter
The drizzling Autumn leaves,
Invites the Fall to supervise,
The sweet chirps of canopies,
Disappears in clouded skies.
The days grow shorter and shorter,
As time’s chariot moves ahead,
Men should return home without halter,
Or else their epitaph will be laid.
In these dark days of shiver,
If a soul is lost on its way,
A clumsy hut of log and fibre,
Takes 2 cents for a night’s stay.
The landlord is a poor young man,
Introduces himself as a fighter,
Earlier with guns and cannon,
Now is a full-time writer.
What a man! So cryptic,
As he beautifies the moon for its glow,
When everyman is pessimistic,
For their breath slowly turns to snow.
The perfect arch of crated vice,
Its sombre and elegant light,
Silver hue enthrones the ice,
Dim yet romantic bright.
As the ice thaws off the fir,
Sun’s orange tinge appear,
Rejoices around, won winter war,
As flowery spring is near.
He counts his cents, smiles half face,
Packs his bags again,
And walks downslope towards city apace,
For winter has come to an end.
______ Adrineel Roy.
