To a poet of India for his warmth which can never be outdated
'With warmth for your severe winter', you said.
And every snowflake from my landscape fled.
I felt the sun from half a world away
Touch my skin with your autograph that day.
Regret echoes back to you on the air.
Love and remembrance, Friend, we both must bear.
Although I knew the poem was no more,
Your solace healed my being to the core.
Thursday, August 31, 2006