Dilip Chitre

(17 September 1938 – 10 December 2009 / Gujarat / India)

The Rains

Through her blood's lightly layered
Hazy darkness
Lightning flashes out branches of my being
When, through intoxicated wet leaves,
The sudden stirring that's the month of Ashadha
Passes tenderly like a slight shiver.
And there remains
Only she
Of the trees, among the trees, for the trees:

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