'Solitude'-the word despicable
devoid of bond,
bereft of unity.
But a loner receives 'solitude'
on a welcome note.
She savours the succulent solitude
till the last morsel.
The desolate place pools her haphazourd thoughts,
which never got an ambience to percolate,
to get streamlined and make flow like a rivulet.
She reflects on her existence, her values,
her purpose of life and the vision
in the comforting blanket of solitude.
In her anchorage with the solitude
she extends her sight to the colonnade of trees,
to the horizon where the sky fondly touches
the convergence of mountains
and the cloud mingles.
Through the vista
she looks on to the
sailing boats on the river,
which, miles away,
bear the semblance of sharks.