Kite string
lightening sun
leading the way
the winds have come
by the cracked window with freshly washed hair
I see the yard, mother, clearing the clothes line
leafy faces, on well water
out over the fields and flower beds
spring rain on the harvest
dripping down
planet dusk
small talk
after droplet burials
in the flowing stream
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Published by Rijul Ballal
There’s poetry in every cloud and a story behind every leaf that flutters down.
We’re all nomads under the eternal blue sky. Check out my work on rijul ballal.wordpress.com, like, comment and subscribe :)
View all posts by Rijul Ballal
You create a lovely pastoral word-picture of the simplicity of rural life. My favourite line:
by the cracked window with freshly washed hair
Lovely! Keep safe and wise, Rijul. Bless you!
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Thank you so much!
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