(From my poetry Collection 'Signatures')
Signatures
When to return back
home?
What is the time
due?
The cattle I
brought
to the woods for
mowing
never ask me
such silly
questions
for they knew it
very well
Only I forget
often.
When would I
learn the time of
returning back?
I don’t know.
The green meadow
which lies around
me
under the serene mountain slope
curls like
signatures
scribbled on by the
wind.
The sound of
chewing
and the smell of
green grass
combine with
the cradling wind lullabies
make me close my
eyes
I was transported away
To somewhere of
no guaranteed terminals.
The sky roared.
to make me awake.
No cattle found around.
Knowing the time of return
They had gone.
Following their
hoof marks
as signatures put
over
the muddy road
of time I speeded
up
reading the signatures
flash over the sky
of an arriving
rain.
Vaiyavan
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