Ambika

It’s winter.
The frosty breeze and the goose bumps it gives.
The late mornings and the early end of days it brings.

The warm sweaters and the musty smell they hold.
I wonder if it’s me or just the weather that’s making people cold.

It’s winter.
I wait for that warmth that people transmit.
The days when the classes are full and there’s a noisy chatter all around it.

The winter days make me yearn for something I’ve forgotten, you see.
It makes me wish for the warmth that comes from you sitting on me.


(On a chair at the Spastics Society)