Spring II

a tree bending upright again,
dancer with your hands in the air,where there is space,
winter lingers.

Fifteen years ago a white frock in the wind whipped
girlhood in its flowers;
Kaalbaishakhi, these eyes yearn
for a glimpse of rain

Lilies will not do.
I want krishnachuraa in the summer heat
and riverine rains hereafter.






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