This winter is not Forever

I look outside the window, 

life in monochrome.

Although the trees look bare for long,

the fields, for even longer, look desolate,

This winter is not forever,

So when I'm asked to just get 'used to it',

I won't.

I won't get used to it.

I'll be jittery, I'll be hopeful, I won't acclimate.

When I set my foot on the white swooshy snow,

My fingers freezing in my pocket, cold,

And I feel the chilly burn on the tip of my nose,

My lips, more chapped than ever,

"Trust me," I breathe to myself, 

"The warmth is closer than you suppose-

this winter is not forever-"

This winter is not forever...

Our spring may seem far,

Like the memory of the old scar

On your elbow,

A memory still fresh in your brain,

But now a lumpy mark,

Like the branches on the cherry blossom

that, now, sit bare,

A memory of its delicately vibrant pink from last year

Is what I imagine it'll look like in the spring.

A spring we await impatiently,

As the long winter lives off of our souls,

But bewail not, my clover,

This winter is not forever.

This winter is not long at all.

~ Kripa Sarkar