Sari Clad Teacher In Spring Poem by Uma nair

My feet hurriedly step forth in the notes of spring,
When pressed and starched my sari hums the bell’s tring,
Spring in Delhi puts the spirit of youth in every thing,
The boys faces glance and gleam as poetry and prose fill reams.
Through the open window I hear the squirrel scream
The air with fragrance of flowers in every hue
Could make me any Shakespeare's story tell,
Julius Caesar, Antony or Othello take birth aboard the green hill
The Indianesque insignia makes the lotus white,
I scorch the scarlet pigment in the rose;
Romance smells sweet but is deception’s disdain
Drawn through anguish, patterned in pain.
Memories pressed between pages of the winter chill, swim in vain,
The black sun looms with one long shade sprayed in rape’s vein.