The Days That Are

Hot and warm the afternoons are,
unfit to lie and relax.

Perspire and breathe throughout the day
a suffocation on the stretch.

Intend not to turn the Air conditioner
prefer natural breeze.

Alas, the wind has turned warm
bruises the skin as it blows.

The evenings are sultry
with dry current.

The walk, I undertake,
makes me uncomfortable.

Needless to say of the nights
I stay in bed with eyes open.


By meenas17

A lover of classical Carnatic music.
An avid reader, passionate writer, into stocks and investments for livelihood

One reply on “The Days That Are”

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