Never mind the colours

The winters of your

absence so harsh and bitter;

touch me into spring

 

 

there are birds enough

wild things measure the grasses

hop on softened ground

 

 

stripped branches become

lacy with leaves, heady with

graceful green splashes

 

 

there’s a tradition

of epic remade into

verse, seasons to spring

 

 

but never mind shades

of Holi, touch me with your

colourless temples

 

 

bent, workday knuckles

the curves of wrists and ankles –

touch me into spring.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tomorrow is Holi, the spring festival of colours.  Happy Holi to you if you are celebrating.

 

 

 

 

 

For OLN @ dVerse