There is something really appalling,
About winter afternoons,
That hurts and scares intensely,
Sparing hardly anyone.
Far on the western horizon,
The sun goes sliding down,
Winding up its golden light,
As if in a hurry to resign.
Birds fly desperately towards trees,
Flutter over and around them,
In search of safe shelters,
To spend their night hours.
Flowers and plants around,
Fold their leaves in caution,
And shrink themselves within,
For fear of being frostbitten.
Whether humans or animals,
All appear to be in a haste,
To return to the safety of a home,
Before the onset of the cruel attacker.
No comments:
Post a Comment