when the cold nights linger and warmth of morning seeps in

it is not every day
that a winter night refuses to freeze the dreams
that we saw many times
some times sparkling the stars studded in the pathway
on which you walked
and some times like hairs entangled
and knotted
in the comb that you have used sparingly of late
will you wait
for the dew to evaporate
so that i can smell
the aroma
that has permeated all the pores
of the bark
of a tree
aged and yet upright
refusing to fall down
now, dont give way
to let it fall down

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