Vidhi Jain


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Best Poem of Vidhi Jain

The Last Of Autmn

Brown and withered,
Yellow whan old.
When they fall,
What rustling sound they call.
As I walk through all the heaps
Gathered by the sweep
Where kept along the side
Far,
Far from my reach.
I walk an extra length
to reach the heap,
Oh! what joy do I get,
When i kick,
Kick,
Them untill they all fall over me
making me sick.
I grunt.
Grunt and walk on, till I see,
see another heap.
A heap that urges me to come and set it free.
Free to roam, roam about in the streets.
Swirling and twirling,
Twisting and shifting,
Moving ...

Read the full of The Last Of Autmn

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