Winter Eve

By Pranjal Babel

The eve of winter and a mug of coffee is waiting,

Leave the job and be in .

It’s dark but doesn’t allow to scream,Ah! It’s hot,

because the coffee is still in thoughts.

Asking to catch up in the kitchen with coffee satchel and pots,

was a voice of inner me,

But the dare and the desire lost,

Then pulled up the blanket and soon the commemoration banged up ,

As there was a missing host .

And with sleep, had nothing but the left over thoughts,

“My coffee and the roads full of frosts”.

By Pranjal Babel