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The Wait

by Ananya Sarkar
(Kolkata, India)

After the night’s sojourn,

The dew-soaked ground awaits...

The sun passes by

Cloud-veiled and mellowed.

Of all things, the nooks and crevices come into notice

Breathing gloom and neglect.

When the wind blows this way

The leaves swish in restlessness.

On a bare branch of a tree sits the skylark

Its voice deflated, hollow.

And in a far-off, long-forgotten land

Yesterday’s footprints remain

To be trodden over by tomorrows

And be transformed into the new and whole ––

Just as the dew-soaked ground awaits

For the brightening of the morrow...


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