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I knew the world
The world that I knew
Kept me spinning
On its axis
Still my feet firmly planted
Scented flowers, whirled down
Free, fresh off the tree
They fell on the lawn
Did they know, the cycle of renewals
Further they flew, blown away by the wind
Each spinning like a pinwheel
The paper flowers
Planted on the railings
Colours abloom
K Balachandran May 2017
his twitching hand rests
on her warm thigh, say her sighs:
" valley is abloom"

— The End —