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
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