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Nov 2013
They just came back to me.

Smells of the last winter!

They brought me back
What slipped through
Before I could grab it!

The colors
More diverse than rainbow
Mocked me in their warm glow
For I’m a year older
But their color
Still holding fast
Many of them may outlast
Me
Warmth intact in mothball
While I’m dominated more and more
More harshness I feel
In the winter chill!

*When at last they’ll take me out
They still will be there
Ageless in the cupboard
Holding the once wearer
In their warm void!
Pradip Chattopadhyay
562
   Weeping willow, ---, ---, ---, --- and 2 others
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