How I See The Winter
B
Bharati Nayak
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I see the Winter
In the layers of wrinkles
Of the old woman.
I see
How the mist spread
On river, mountainand fields
and make them blurred
Like the vision of her cataract -inflicted eyes.
Cold wind bites her fragile body
She holds her walking stick tightly
And stares blankly
To the fields,
where once crops grew in plenty, now
Lying empty.
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