Jul 2019
etched in memory
the day we left the village
leaving no footprints.
rain clouds gallop high
fast we run, puffing, panting--
who will reach home first?
the wheels of the cart
in quick rhythmic clatter
swing the bullock horns.
when the hills recede
quietly, unseen, dust
settles on the road.
the day we left the village
leaving no footprints.
rain clouds gallop high
fast we run, puffing, panting--
who will reach home first?
the wheels of the cart
in quick rhythmic clatter
swing the bullock horns.
when the hills recede
quietly, unseen, dust
settles on the road.
i have been away from hellopoetry for quite some time, but not from poetry. may i start sharing my poems once again? i have even forgotten the names of my old friends here. i shall start updating on all of you. love
