January Climate

Life over the moon at last has waned, A drab and dull scene from great merriment and fun Nothing now remains but ashes of yester-dreams Strewn over the moribund ambience of jollities Hard dry wind has taken sway over the plane And making blitz over bare faces worn with zest. The morning grey with chill air piercing deep Into lonely quivering bodies once more abandoned. Garbage brimful of remnants of yesterday’s abundance; As stores and coffers now in state of dearth As the road ahead narrows shrouded by mist And fraught expectations on white emaciating faces. Upon every heart and stem a somber skeleton That has shed their outer brimful layers. The sphere again begins new cyclic processes; All hands again go to plough, upon dead branches a bud.