Snow Country

By Shreya Ghoshmitra

If December is

to last forever,

I would write

letters to you,

over and over,

on the long

sleepless nights,

as I sip on

my beer.

I would write about

the barren lands

spreading

like wildfire,

and the

dreary afternoons

taking over.

And, the cat

that got its tail

run over.

I would forget

about you

the next day,

the letters crumpled

with yester-waste.

And, wait eternally

for summer to take over.

By Shreya Ghoshmitra