Embers

The mellow trees
wave at my window
and the old peepal
in front of my house
is the first to declare fall.
The winter chill
runs down my spine
but the embers of you
still glow in my fireplace.

I confess 
the polaroids still
float in my memory,
I still keep
the flannel trousers
even though they
don't fit me anymore,
the coffee doesn't taste
as good as yours 
but it occasionally ruins
the papers on my desk,
and the embers of you
still glow in my fireplace.







4 thoughts on “Embers

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