Missing Cravat Poem by nimal dunuhinga

When flurries in the gloomy sky
I am still awake and inquisitive?
Your pinkish-mauve silky scarf
Blown in the wind and safely landed
At my backyard.
But how do I know your whereabouts
To hand over if it's not a keepsake
Are you faraway or close by?
I have no proper sleep these days
Till I get your prompt response
And please do not cremate my innocent hopes
in your vast burial grounds *before the music ends?

*for Sandra Fowler!
[ I listen your precious poems in the CD where Ihab Badrun reads in his deep voice; 'A hymn to Frost' (for my grandfather who started work in the coal mines of West Virginia when he's twelve years old,) I feel a teardropp in my eye? ]

[I had the story, bit by bit, from various people, and, as generally happens in such cases each time it was a different story.]
Quoted from Edith Wharton's lovely novel 'Ethan Frome'
Ethan Frome a heartfelt humanity that can still resonate across the years to the reader of today.

nimal dunuhinga