But You Come Not Poem by Muhammad Umair

I stood waiting for you at
The crossroad of separation.
Springs, too many, shone in the skies
And the suns kissed the mountains
And the hills, and the fresh green leaves,
And the rivers and the streams.
Sang lovers songs of love; made love
Under the thick bows of large boughs.
Sweet winds blew, the leaves rustled,
The clouds, in puffs, danced left and right
Before my eyes. On the stoops sit grandmas,
With their toothless laughter, laughed till
Their parted lips touched their wrinkled eyes.    


And when the suns went down,
And the birds flew away,
Decembers of despair darkened the skies.
And the lovers were gone
And the boughs were silent.
On the stoops lay white corpses
And the moans were loud
And tears, too many, were shed.
Cold winds howled; the gray clouds
Hovered over the sad nights
And the broken light poles were dark.
I stood waiting for you at
The crossroad of separation.
But you come not.