It was the peak of spring

And the garden was filled

With lush reds, pinks and yellows.

It was five-forty and I knew,

You’d be by the french window

To watch dawn set,

Waiting for your tea

And me. 

I’d pushed the door open with my hip

Carrying china in floral

In a tray with olive wreaths at the edges.

There was no one waiting;

The sun hadn’t dawned that day.

The wooden floor creaked cold

With no orange flooding it.

You were fast asleep

In a slumber so deep

No tugging or calling woke you.

You looked at peace.

The tea had gone cold.

And though my face was patchy with tears,

I couldn’t help myself from

Bringing the blanket closer to your heart,

Trying to warm you;

Trying to hold on to the warmth left

On that cold spring morning.


It’s been six months

Winter is here

And the garden is coated

With dew drops and snow.

You’d always ask me

When the first snowflake fell,

If I’d build a snowman.

You’d come out in mufflers

And three sweaters

But you’d make sure to be there with me,

Giggling and cheering through whistles,

While I built the snowman.

The first snowflake fell last week.

I built your snowman today.


It’s been six months

Since it dawned in that room;

Since anyone watched the world

Through the french window;

Since I went in with china in floral

On a tray with olive wreaths at the edges.

Winter is here.

But winter feels warm today.

It smells of hot chocolate

And cinnamon cookies

That you’d baked through my childhood

To the time your wrinkled hands

Could whack me if I added a teaspoon

Too little of sugar.

I take out the china set in floral

And make tea with cardamom and ginger.

I left the scent fill the kitchen

Running into the corridor

Leading to your room

As I carry it in the china in floral

Over the tray with olive wreaths at the edges.

I push open the door with my hips

And walk over to the french window

With white frames,

Pulling the chocolate curtains back.


It dawned again.

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