autumn
By neha bhat
The trees wear a bare look And so does my porch. Not so long ago Not so void, so empty was My porch. Somebody was there— To play in it To laugh in it. Somebody. To share the joys And bear the sorrows… That somebody is where this year? The ground is covered with crisp leaves. It brings back remembrances— Of sweet evenings And playful days Of last autumn. With that somebody. Who left my porch… To hold unto another. Will that somebody ever return? Or have I got to hold Onto some other? And wait— Just wait for Another An autumn? Written February 24th, 2002 © on Feb 23 2002 04:08 PM PST 18 • 0 • 1
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"The trees wear a bare look..."