Shadow girl

Yesterday I sat alone
in the purple splendor
of that valley

Nothing remained of my dream
of your laughter, and
your dancing blue anklets

I hear what music swells
kisses of salt and rose in your wake
because of the seasons

Lead me into thy healing
being too reconciled
to earth–grief–and wine

To make one old before his time
whisper, O my ghost
my wandering maid

Supple limbs
with dark breasts
and eyes flashing

in the primal breath
give me one song
before your wild eyes fade

8 thoughts on “Shadow girl

      1. Oh, we have countless beginnings of the years! (Call me legion, for we are many). As for Hindus, the new year begins somewhere between March and April, about the time when the mango trees burst into panicles, and koels sing their hearts out in the branches.


      2. It’s the fruit for the soul. We had an orchard of mangoes in our village. We could feed on them till we were fit to swoon. Like my childhood, that too is gone. Do have a tree of mangoes in your yard.


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