Lost winters

From trying roasted eggplant over a woodfire To settling for one roasted on the stove, From enjoying hot tea with mom To sipping Knorr soup alone. From warming my hands in mom’s embrace To relying on the heat of a machine, Each experience left its unique taste, Yet none could fill the void of home. As winter declines, homesickness grows, A quiet reminder of what I’ve left behind— And a call to return, to bring back the long winter we once knew.