Some lost and found poems

There were cracks in the massive old black stem of the Gulmohar tree but the top was like burning coal. Deep flaming red spread across the barren summer sky. She gazed disapprovingly at the oldest of the four trees in her courtyard. She would have loved the laburnum to be there right across her bedroom window its soothing yellow flowers hanging like delicate Chinese lanterns.

Some things remain a thought. She was the other woman.


She had studied his moods and seasons

had nurtured and nourished him

 like water

changing shapes , flowing wherever she found space

a crack, a hollow, a crevice,

along  creases of his worn out stem

quenching his thirst


washing away the cares

dividing herself

time after time

 to make him whole

she was the other woman


she was  a  shadow on the sidewalk

cast by the hunter’s moon

it was the time for fall equinox again

love an evanescent mirage

they had met


the summer’s last heat

and the fall’s first chill

tried to make the best of the fleeting hours

and then the autumn leaves began to fall

slower than usual

 a long cold winter lay ahead

she knew the old weather proverb

she too had shed leaves that year

a little too quickly

bared herself to him

now wrapped in her shadow

balanced between light  and dark

between what was and what will be

she awaits

bracing herself for yet another long winter

in hope for a spring that never came

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