Winds Poem by Sharad Rajimwale

The wind blows, not gently
but in fitful fury, fluttering the calendar
flinging rose scent in the air
flogging the swaying trees
fluffing the green lawns....

The wind blows

She turns and looks at the sky
brushing away a fresh plucked green leaf that kept sticking to her
crimson cheeks for shelter
and the dust that assaults her eyes

The air is peopled with papers and packets
bits of twigs and plastic and tattered flowers
groping through a whirling world

Light dims on the garden
and darkens houses inside
the wind removes heaps of garbage
and sweeps terraces clean

She looks up at the hurry and the haste
the dancing world of winds
and doesnot know
whether to delight
or to rue.
- - - Sharad Rajimwale, Jodhpur, India