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A Shadow Returns with the Wind

One day between a wind
And an old broken window
Rusty hinges squeak
A painful wheezing sound
Welcoming an old man home.

Ah! the wind blows as always
Like a madwomen’s flutter near a trashcan
Dust rises with dried leaves
Silence
Becomes new fragrance of the wind
This tired old house
Has seen it, more often than I.

What remains
Is the broken pane
Victim of my once strong arm
Allowing, in small measure, a lattice of light
Masked by quirky dancing shadows.
I ponder
How like life itself
That gives only few moments of light
That I could call truly mine.

This house, once mine
Now host to rodents and wind
And occasional residence of war-torn souls
Echo sounds of listless feet marching by.

Only the wind, a regular visitor
Sweeps my memories
Into a garden of sorrows;
My soul rests in the wood
At last happy with the wind
and the creaking rusty hinge
Listlessly swinging
To welcome a shadow returning with the wind.


 Copyright 2007, Baru Gobira



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The author writes, “Baru Gobira 55, resident of Hyderabad and a well travelled writer/poet,  explores the shadows in the crevice of the mind in his poetry. His poems have been published in Anthologies by the Forward Press Ltd UK & its subsidiary Anchor Books as well as in many leading American Poetry Journals. He continues to explore and frame different slices of life in his poems.”