Let’s walk through the relation between the solitude of winters and old age, the desire to become young again, to regain the energy winter lacks and wait for summer to arrive through this poem.
The sky was determined to exhibit its cold rage,
white polka dots fell over the damp sky.
Bringing with them a tinch of solitude and imprisonment.
Chilly winds etched my heart with cold numbness.
The evil winds chain danced, engulfing me,
as my body shivered and goosebumps rose to fight.
Like old door hinges, my knee joints cracked,
every young soul now trapped inside with a feeling of imprisonment.
The fire sang a crackle in its rage to fight,
restoring the charming chirps of birds.
With fogged up glasses sipping hot coffee,
Wearing jackets I sat in my young old age, trying to find the person inside.
To wave my dad a bye, I rushed towards the window,
Fog can separate even the closest, I just realized.
Fake santas dominated December with their HO!HO!HO!
While young gullible minds expected an angel to arrive.
O sun I beg you to return from your exile,
Show me some light when with darkness I fight.
Provide me with warmth, wake my spirit,
To enlighten the youth and energy that winters deprive!
Picture by Adam Chang (Unsplash)