Bijay Kant Dubey


Under the gulmohars, I keep dreaming of my love


Under the gulmohars hanging by
the branches,
dream I
of my love
at noonday
when the scorching sun
ruffles it all
I dream of
the sweet coming of my love
when the gulmohars hang by
red-red and vermillioned,
florid and clustered,
fiery red and flaming
at noonday

Submitted: Monday, May 05, 2014

Topic of this poem: Art


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