howling winds almost rip at ears drums
day hides into startling night of doom
complacent gone, I listen to love songs
of the gusts of wind to swaying pines.
envious of those, assailed by melancholy
I kick out at the table stubbing my toes.
howling like the wind, I hobble around
giving a loud voice to choicest of curses.
my eyes fall on a ragged doll long forgotten
discarded now, a silent bystander to all
alpha and omega of my early years. now it
offers comfort. I hug it close to my heart,
smiling at its smugdy one-eyed twisted face.
'turbulent weather is perfect to revisit childhood memories'
# From my archives, dusted and .....
And do join in the Train every Monday.