When the sun shines red on the walls
the tropical summer calls.
With the taste of tamarind on my tongue
and the breath of salty sea in the lung
I rush to the shade of the austere home
where all the children still roam
with kites and balloons in the silvery sand.
With the sun going down they rush back home from the land where they saw the end of a dream.
With dust gathered on the soles of the shoes,
sand biting into the skin, shoelaces loose,
untidy, they mess up the room,
and I see you leaning against the railing in a gloom,
the windows and doors unbolted,
trying to recall the tune where the last summer halted its song.
The walls still catch the reddening sun,
the days are forever and are still on the run
as we make peace with time.
Sushama Karnik
Dec 11, 2016
Image courtesy: Hector Merced
the tropical summer calls.
With the taste of tamarind on my tongue
and the breath of salty sea in the lung
I rush to the shade of the austere home
where all the children still roam
with kites and balloons in the silvery sand.
With the sun going down they rush back home from the land where they saw the end of a dream.
With dust gathered on the soles of the shoes,
sand biting into the skin, shoelaces loose,
untidy, they mess up the room,
and I see you leaning against the railing in a gloom,
the windows and doors unbolted,
trying to recall the tune where the last summer halted its song.
The walls still catch the reddening sun,
the days are forever and are still on the run
as we make peace with time.
Sushama Karnik
Dec 11, 2016
Image courtesy: Hector Merced
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