Oh Romantics

My neighbour waves with staggered smile
his lips like straight lines on paper

puzzled at me for taking a photo

of the tree, he has been seeing all his life

White roofs glittering 

my daughter is in awe

her first snowy morning

suddenly everything has a white sweater on

New for her, dead for me

Does the wine really tastes better with age?

Or is it our worries on Love that have grown ?

To know the blob of nothingness that ends

and still to start with vibe of a romantic

Dust floats, twists, swishes, drowns till it vanishes