Its Winter Again
Fog descends, a silver gray.
The wind grows crisp, a chilly tune,
While the sun’s allure begins to bloom.
Heavy quilts on warm beds lie,
Shielding dreams beneath the sky.
A breath of frost fills lungs with chill,
The heart ignites, alive with thrill.
Upon my two-wheeler, I glide,
Cold air strikes, yet warmth resides.
The sun’s embrace, a gentle balm,
A fleeting moment, pure and calm.
A.V
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