I see you by the fence
Under the yellow Gulmohur;
The summer wind rustles the leaves
And your raven hair has come loose.
Is it night already?

In your orange dress and blue scarf
You have walked out of a painting
By Vermeer; The Street is silent.
If only I could kneel at your feet
And tear open my sorrowful heart.

But you turn to me and smile
And say something about the weather;
All I can do is mumble and nod
And say in a matter-of-fact way,
“It is going to be a fine day”.

Diptesh Ghosh