The night has pulled out, piles

Of pearls from the storms of yesterday,

When the rain that lashed the city,

Generously untouched my backyard where

I buried your memories afresh.

 

The dry patch of land that feeds on you,

Is the fruit that I bore,

For the love we loved.

I loved you each creepy night,

Crawling day, and lovely evening;

Painting the sky with penumbras.

Suns have dried up in my eyes,

And the rains have conquered my tears.

The autumn,like a full moon, is coaxed to

Glow through my windows;

Where the roses I kept for you have already,

Died a million deaths.

Through the hazy windings of the

Desolate streets,

I listen to our memories reverberating in the

Wayside blooms; but

They droop within my virgin hands.