White and Calm

It is calm, this cold,
roads look empty, like a premonition soon to be played out.
Fallen leaves tucked to the cracks under the sidewalks stop hissing;
glass on the lamppost glows, frosted from within. 

It is calm, this cold, as
a mother, two kids bundled in puffy coats, rush into an inbound train.
an empty park, the heron missing at the sepia-toned pond;
while a dog anxiously pulls on the leash,
to get home.

It is calm, this cold, for,
a flurry, then two and then too many will swish their ways down into the dried grass.
We watch, a storm will now steadily brew.
Chai sits still, sweet lady sprinkles bird feed;
sunless light streams through holes on a window screen.

It is calm, this cold, for,
a heavy sky soon folds every cloud in.
We drive to get this dog bathed,
through snow dusting the Charles;
it falls along the banks, on arches,
on brick walls of quaint bridges.

It is calm, this cold,
we come, into a home's warmth, all wet,
after trudging on paths, of new softness;
to trees' branches getting a thin neat lining,
from a fresh gently falling snow.
An inky sky turns orange,
a wintry life is now all white.

 ~ by Sowmya Sundararajan

Listen to White and Calm

 

Sowmya is a rehab counselor during daylight 
and a life searcher through nightlight,
with solace from words.












This is the first guest post on my blog and I am honored to share a tiny part of a dear friend's world,  as it touched mine....knowing that it will touch many more :).....