Melancholy- Day Eighteen of NaPoWriMo 2021

A heady scent of vanilla,

The quiet whirring of coffee machines

accompanied by a crescendo of soft muttering

fill the place.

A lone white lily, head bowed,

rests in a green glass vase,

The hot chocolate still steaming

Scrawled notes, Littered pens

all set the table.

A cloud ambles its way,

almost by accident in the clear blue sky,

The playful wind ruffles the picnic blankets,

Laughter resides here,

You can almost reach out to touch it.

A quiet sigh? A rustle of paper,

You turn back to your work,

The melancholy a tight vice.

Written by Kriti Gopal for MTTN

Featured image by Aarathi Mohandas for MTTn