The emanating petrichor from the plants,
And, the smell of the pleasant and fresh breeze,
Made her nostalgic.
That blue scarf she wore,
Still smelled of her perfume,
Despite being used after years today,
Made her nostalgic
There were no colors in her life now
She has accepted the truth.
Has started living with her other senses,
Yet, she has no regrets, no complaints.
Her fingers could read,
She could interpret silence,
She could smell ill-feeling,
And, she could transfix anyone with her voice.
The accident she met two years back took her vision,
Though she has become a pro at living with darkness
Certain things, today also, often made her nostalgic.
Prompt 2- Nostalgic #writebravely #writetribeproblogger