Hibernation

Hibernation short poem

Photo by southgeist

It’s winter now.
A sea of flaking whites with
Few Mahonias and Jacquelines blooming bright
Just the way you’d loved them.
Of flowers, now
I’d rather you be a wreath on my bosom
Than a lonely rose on the lapel.
The last time we walked down these aisle,
You were there,
A flower snipped off,
But, a solemn smile still
In the middle of roses white.
Now, on the day of last stride down the same aisle
I came not since then,
Let us go with you on my tide.
I’d stare; through the drone of sermons,
Hard at the stars
Till they blink and implode.
Then, we’d go
Gladly down the haven of that named burrow.

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Arun M Sivakrishna

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A reluctant writer and a sunday photographer. Recently published a collection of poems "Songs Of A Solitary Tree". Writes in English and malayalam
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Preeti
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Loved your poem:) Keep writing!

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