Winter past and the city

There is nip in the air,
Yet it is so hot,
Sweat running down the brow,
To enjoy the chill,
I want to do whatever i can.
I miss the chilly,foggy winters
Of my city,my beloved land.
The fog,the quilts,the steaming hot tea,
The flowers..the fragrant garden of mine,
Poppies,Dahlaias,Marygolds,chrysenthemums.
My garden was my pride and neighbour’s envy,
No doubt,how I miss those days.
Now caught up in life of,
Tall apartments,and suffocated life,
No gardens,no open space,no peace.
No peace of mind,but so much quiet,
That even I don’t know,
Who lives next door.
If I die,no one will worry,
Will wait till my rotting stench,
Will bother them,
And then they will get me removed,
And their life will go on…

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About Nalini Srivastava

I am an Indian.I write to let go of myself.It is my catharsis.My biggest inspiration is my son and every passing moment of life.I am a teacher by profession and the way I love to write ,I love to teach.With my one solo poetry book already published "Feminine Musings" hope many more will see the light.

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