Winter in May
The chill of the wind tears withinAnd grips the soul.
So harsh.
And yet,
It’s spring.
Where is the promised bloom ?
Look at the trees,
They’re bare.
Last week, they flowered.
Today rough winds
Have torn them
Shamefully naked.
The sky is damp.
A heavy, wet cloth.
Soon, the wind’ll wring it
And rain’ll fall.
Nature may be capricious
Or we’re heading to a doom.
Between these two possibilities
We grip our coats and shut our rooms.
Poetry by Sameen
Read 20 times
Written on 2026-05-09 at 15:15
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