Monday, 10 January 2011

Last winter

Your eyes lied to me three summers ago
when the sun danced in my room
little slivers of light
cut through my heart
Oh the cruel afternoon sun
filtered through cut glass

Why did they slice through
my heart, my mind, my memories,
eternal slivers of light
the same afternoon sun.

And once I made love,
and the sun bore witness
and now-
as I sit here alone
(my head in my hands)
it shines on me
but its smile is cold
and I am alone,
and that's not my friend-
(and that's not my lover)
that's not my sun.

Lovers come and go,
like winter mornings.

And then this winter will end too.
What will I do?

another summer
Perhaps a better summer
Perhaps not.
(Perhaps I will never be warmer.)

And older.
And older.


Elendil said...

Hebbie. One of your very good poems, in my estimation. Heavy sinky lines with some straight-from-the-heart simple ones. I like.

Rahul Saha said...

From what I hear seasons do change. Eventually. So hang in there.

yash gupta said...

doesn't this feeling haunt every winter?...but summer does bring with it warmth and love :)
a very nice poem...delight to read... :)