Monday, November 7, 2011

The Missing Piece



I miss the whistling pines on a snowy evening
A bright sun the next day
The snowmen melting away
The cold winds traveling north
We huddled around fire making merry
I miss my innocence
The mud houses and toys
The fear of ghosts and endless prayer
Long fairy tales lasting into morning
I miss her
The nights spend beside her
The time together on the grass
Sweet nothing exchanges and stifled smiles
Years have slipped in her pain

2 comments:

harsh said...

wonderful. seems very personal and emotional.

ASHISH YOUNGY said...

They say time heals every wound. But some wounds only get deeper with time.