I cannot write about Spring.
Spring never came.
I bought it
bottled in pots with blooming dahlias and big, big flowers
(what are they called?)
But it never came.
The bottles
after their expiry date
withered.
I remember the summers
the winters
and the autumns
(especially the autumns)
But Spring?
It never came.
Spring never came.
I bought it
bottled in pots with blooming dahlias and big, big flowers
(what are they called?)
But it never came.
The bottles
after their expiry date
withered.
I remember the summers
the winters
and the autumns
(especially the autumns)
But Spring?
It never came.
2 comments:
Another awesome poem. Sometimes hope is just not enough ad at time one gives it up.
Vandana ji: :) Thank you!!
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