a fanciful season fills me and my city...when you wait for me...

The sky overcast
By clouds with scent of rain
Tells me plain
You're there for me
Waiting at the bus-stop...
You would be surely in white...
Your hair wet and eyes bright
Surely wait for me to descend
Near you where my road always bends...

Can easily perceive
How the rain-soaked breeze
Play about you as you there stand
A relentless picture of  love-in-wait by the news-stand...

The trams must have moved by you
Minibuses must have honked...
From the billboards with a filmy view
The rising starlets must have cast a look blank...

The leaves must be running round
Circling you in a frantic move around...
The tea stall owner by the stop
Must have put on stove a silver pot...

This sky overcast...
This spring breathing her poetry last...
This clumsy chaos of weather dark...
This wait of you for me embarked,
On my city scape, by a snapshot earmarked-
Must be happening for a reason...
Of filling my city with a fanciful season...







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