Threads

I shiver in the cold morn, As I drape in the jacket, Whose warmth seems to be gone, I look over the letters many, The many medals, That lie latent in the dust, Two drops flow in silence, The cold breeze gentle, Wipes them with their cold hands. As I knit in the gloomy home, I wonder if, There flows a river like a thread, Where you stand on its banks, Waiting to be knitted to my river, Where I sit in the warm sun, A letter left to be read, To you. Date - 6th October, 2023