finally, the rain
her voice rises and falls as she describes
her new life to me—in this old café.
i listen with care to every little
sound she makes, her voice inside my head—
what do I crave from her intimate voice,
what good is this unusual courtesy?
i look out of the window, and i see
some wind-stirred flowers of jacaranda trees—
autumn has arrived in this city at last.
i pick up the blue mimosa and read
a page for her. she says, “you still believe
in things like that?” silence. a heavy sigh.
outside some grey, untiring sparrows chirp.
the flowers fall, and finally—the rain.
Poetry by bibek adhikari
Read 79 times
Written on 2020-06-22 at 17:36
Tags Love  Sonnet  Loss
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