Scattered by the broken string, bent to pick the beads.
You stood with some in cupped hands, did you my thoughts read?
Led me gently to balcony, to show Laburnum bloom.
Clusters of bright yellow flowers watch them with awe, droop.
Yellow petals formed a carpet, underneath the tree
You said its called golden shower, from far one can see.
The breeze carries the flowers, away from the loose bunch,
Just like my beads got separated, and I sat hunched.
I forgot about my rosary, as we stepped in the avenue.
Your nearness and fragrant air, tears blurred the view.
Careful not to crush the blossoms, lying on the grass
We strolled hand in hand, exchanging a glance…
~Mamta Agarwal~
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