Friday, April 22, 2011

For the want of springtime

Words flock to me like pigeons
jostling for grain on an April morn
gargling syllables that were dampened
by a heavy downpour

Sun burns a cluster of crotons
leaves bear scars of diverse hues
as the pigeons burble and make
shadows blend with shadows
and separate

Near an alcove they halt startled
by the sight of a bald stump
a severed banyan

The tree that gave the thickest shade
to a traveler

Who returned each spring
to feed the birds

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