Winter

Couched on crimson cushions,
 pink bleeds gold
 
and red spills into one’s heart.
 Broad leather keeps time,
 
calibrating different hours
 in different zones
 
unaware of the grammar
 that makes sense.
 
Only random woofs and snores
 of two distant dogs
 
on a very cold night
 clears fog that is unresolved.
 
New plants wait for new heat —
 to grow, to mature.
 
An old cane recliner contains
 poetry for peace — woven
 
text keeping comfort in place.
 But it is the impatience of want
 
that keeps equations unsolved.
 Heavy, translucent, vaporous,
 
split red by mother tongues —
 winter’s breath is pink.

Copyright Credit: Copyright © 2014 by Sudeep Sen. Permission granted by the author.