Waiting For His Message Poem by lalitha iyer

I said no
my sky is dark and done
that your stars are nothing
but stillborn ones
your moon is only
a butter in the oven
and his beautiful verses went
down the alley saying none
his meanings were my hopes
his rhymings were my mops
to wipe out dust and fogs
no more he' gone
and took the delight of Spring
and the entire youth wing
leaving me dead
as if my life a thread
he wounded upon his head
and banged past the door
and left my hours a bore.