19 June 2008

The Gulmohur

The crescent branches
Bare all winter,
Wave green fans
In welcome
To the crows and sparrows,
All old, familiar friends,
Alighting on them,
Squabbling for space.
A single veiled bud unfurls,
Van-guard of the red army
Poised to invade.
The balmy breeze blows away
Winter cheer with winter blues,
And leaves me a tabula rasa,
New, untouched, hollow.

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