Winter

                In the womb of hills, the little wooden cottage is empty. No more is the fire kindling there, and no more the bed is warm. Through the window she looks at the snow descending and settling over the pavement while she longs for his return. Winter is the time of year that brings forth the memory of the heights of her love. As the mist descends in the morning, it reminds her warmth of his embrace, of cuddles and of the infinite love. A slight touch of cold wind, reminds her of his silent promise of never leaving her alone. The chilled darkness reminds her of their whispers and of their world that were their alone. The memory of that rose petal dawn fills her heart with sweet pain. It makes her happy because at that time she was someone that she can never be again and it makes her sad because those beautiful moments were very short-lived. Everything that they did is now the ghost that haunts the empty house of midnight.  But at the same time they are very dear to her.  Although, she tries not to think of him, her love put claws in the sky, she kisses the wind. She speaks his name, when she is alone.

             Nothing seems real to her. All she wants is him back in her life. Denying every possibility she chooses one possibility that in everyone’s eyes is impossibility that he will return. But she chooses to put all her faith in her love and believes that he will come back like sunrise piercing the morning’s hazy mist.