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Gita Assefi

SONGSOPTOK THE WRITERS BLOG | 9/10/2014 |





The plan of snow...

Tonight again I witnessed the balls of snow
silently flickering in the nights dark
Tonight I remembered our home
in the winters cold
huddling under the same old blanket
The spirits of still existing hope
A family!!
Tonight I smelled the frozen whiff
of the white snow
covering everywhere;
but in silence and in ardour;
regardless of the impending danger
of the break;
the crack, the sudden change of direction
of the wheel of fortune
and the sudden halt of everything
we once had.
And yet this snow
keeps falling nicely bringing images
of those unforgettable days
tingling the ever-lasting open wounds
we carry like a badge
on our arms
and someday this too will last
but the snow would be falling
for the next
to remind what we once had...


The face of Death...

The delicate blue,
born on a morning dew,
face of dead,
he already knew.
A heart with such depth,
like a journey
to the deep sea blue.
His mind
an open map of the world;
Alas!
submerged in flue.
And dead hadnt suited anyone more
but him .
There he was
like a sculpture by Leonardo
 lying there inact.
People were wearing black
sitting in the pew
befuddled at the tranquil expression
shown on his face;
and death showed its face
in fact not in black
but rosey and pink
If we knew the fact
would we still shudder
in a made up cold!!!


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