The great coat of wind and light
Patterning in, bathe in silhouettes of panes,
Vicinate high and low, the yellow gold.
Scrupulating in curtains' gleaming gold,
Freeze the sun in infinitum on floor.
Cold, not so cold, stir the winds - The soul.
Breathe in, my eyes the winds of Oxford.
Copyright © Ishita Agarwal | Year Posted 2025
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