spilleronsheet

Bereft souls

Festivals around 

the season turning at its peak now

frozen are my feet

numb the fingers

wonder what I write around

 

the season of gifts

the weather of surprises

the friends gonna meet 

though the pandemic 

made us distance apart

but the sticky fingers glued

as the screens connected the distanced souls

 

packing the gifts

turning a santa

a child who waited with stockings

never knows would wait for Santa 

or should turn a santa

 

with season freezing at peak

the roads swept

with those who laid

under the bare sky

 

wonder will warm milk 

bring warmness to the distraught souls

 

 

Maybe festivals are at peak

for some seasons don’t turn around

new year approaching soon 

yet for some its just adding a candle to life 

 

what season

what festival 

calls the heart inside 

bereft some souls dry