Kiran Devarajan Poems

Still sometimes the desert winds halt here,
And lay tearfully the wreaths of silence.
Oft when sun smiles, the vanquished sands retreat
And offer glimpses of the lost grandeur.
...

I heard the call, when in bed,
I ran, with a heavy breath, outside,
To see the wonder unfold
My eyes were witnesses to these....
...

Those shivering hands needed warmth.
Was I rude when I showed him the pyre? ?
After all, the sparkly forms drawn by the fire
Were but fuelled by memories, warm and soothing.
...