The November letter

The first letter of Spring,
First hint of magnolia on a summer so blue
A far fetched flight across the lime drenched noon
Fell, like a red leaf of Fall
So did the fragrance of her nailpolish
Flew from the olive hued letter
Every fresh morning, draped in white
Every little tread , flurry of anxiety
Seeks shelter, may be in forlorn scribbles
Away from the glance of the universe
Thread of mortality gleams still
The first drench of monsoon
Warm tears that fell on my shoulders
But never so warm again, only
More distant than reality can fathom

2 comments:

Clairvoyant said...
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Clairvoyant Virus said...
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