One sky looks brighter than the others,

Soon will be brightening up the lawn outside.

My room is still dark and dishevelled,

Like the heart and mind inside.

The new mug of coffee

Wears a crown of swirling steam,

Surrounded by the dozen old,

Who were witnesses to all my dreams.

All my highs and lows,

My exit and return.

Memories are wrapped around them,

To be buried one day or to be forgotten.

But still the windows of hope are kept ajar,

In trepidation for my love who won’t know of my waiting from afar.

The sun ray will surely fall on my waiting bed,

But not my love because she is long dead.

*

Jay Jagdev | 21^st January 2024