Long for Rain/ A June Dinner Poem

my city was waiting at bated breath for this rain long

the summer nor’wester had blown and it was still blowing

I look out to the garden, dimmed poorly lighten, of my office

grey komorebi formed on the wet trimmed shrubs & grass bed

as the trees were waltzing with their branches & leaves.

the rain was drizzle; colored white of halogens of streets of Salt Lake.

I look at my colleagues; they were chatting, cracking jokes, dicussing–

the Friday dinner–a tradition on last night of night shift

the menu, the choice, the costing, the responsibilities.

increment was promised; it has been but not so much

can look for other opportunities but for what; better life I dream of–

but this monotonous life am liking it these days…

the manuscripts, the poems send out to magazines awaiting response

it is being though one month, but, I shall wait which I do not want to…

our time was truth…our love was also…it may be the time–

it may be the love at those days…it may be what we share at last those days…

I tear another piece of roti and dripped it in the curry…

Kolkata, my city, getting drench…

am waiting still for the rain…

By Sangbad

A poet, an author, a reviewer--in one word I'm a literaturist (means one who is trying almost everything that Literature is made of). My books are available at Amazon. I'm a Bengali, born and raised in Kolkata, West Bengal.


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