Wednesday, December 24, 2008

The smell of winter...we spent together.

I found an old jacket in my trunk.
It makes me think of yesterday that's been months.
My fingers run over it. It feels strong and secure.
How I miss the winter evenings we spend together on the top of bales of straw. Singing to the moon, talking 'bout the ways that we're to walk, waiting for us somewhere down there in the valley, still hidden in the dust of future, counting the falling stars without thinking 'bout the troubles of tomorrow.
I found your old jacket in the ancient trunk.
The smell of fields and freedom, alcohol and laughter, wind and philosophies still lingers on its skin.
A smell of winter, so strong that it eases all the pain of the summer.

1 comment:

  1. आदत से मजबूर शायद with time you should bounce out fine. -Morgan.


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