Fog closes in outside my window
Though I try to look, to see, beyond
Where my imaginary golden paddies are
Standing on their December feet by the pond

My mind wonders outside, to wash it away
To let the wintery sunbeams arrive
Inside the dark shelves of my caged heart
Where my little dreams are still alive

A gust of chilly wind touches my bare face
Whispering memories of winter from childhood
Eyes closing, I feel inside the same little child
Unaware of the coming tests of his boyhood

©Dhiman Saha