Pandemic Snippets 4

Crisp autumn morning
India is in the air
It’s not the smell
It’s the light
The chill of early cold season sun

The streets are waking up
I’m off somewhere
And so are they
It’s almost a smell
I miss India every now and then

I wonder when I will go back
It’s not easy
Between a pandemic
And limited leave
I try not to think too hard
Tears are much too close to my eyes.

Originally published at Climb to the Stars.