an understanding exists
among people who live here
on seasons
of which
there are two:
rainy and monsoon.
in this part of the world,
trees with leaves that age
in reverse
unfold first, a deep red,
then pink, yellow and green.
a false autumn.
it's not a question
on the absence of life –
winter has no hold
here – but how to bear
the seasonless
passing.
we who live here,
how we long
for change.
– Mira Song
No comments:
Post a Comment