'Buy me that stole...'
She me told
One evening late,
Winter closing upon us,
Through a market as we happened to pass,
'Which one?'
I asked,
For stoles there hung like colors
Wavering in front my eyes,
And yet no more beauteous
Color could i find
To cover her shoulders,
'Stoles i have no idea,
Stolen as i stand here,
Shivering'
I said,
Colored by her shopping spree,
Her 'retail therapy',
Her face like a girl so happy,
She looked for awhile,
She suppressed a smile,
She came like late evening of a winter,
Closing in,
Her stole
Became my arms.
No comments:
Post a Comment