The Wordweaver

​Breaking the soft morning mist
We shall meet somewhere that winter
Like two lost strangers.

Your teen shadow, excited
Will acquaint you to the wordweaver
Whose verses have long
Taken her to sleep
Since your lullabies no longer.

And you, more nervous today
And yet, more beautiful than ever
Will hold again my fingers
That once loved you
Those days that lost summer.

When your stealing eyes meet me
We will be amidst all there,
Yet far away that day
“Why still now?” they will ask
“Why no one else ever?”

And my silent smile will reply
Like they always did in words you knew
On that far away winter.

© Arindam Dey

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