May 20, 2013

Everyday Writing: Chapter 16

You still are at your mourning
Waiting for some answers from the wind
Forgetting what a fickle thing it is
Passes on without a word
And you think they are whispers
The sound of tousled leaves
And the swish around things.

*Written after watching 'The Reluctant Fundamentalist' by Mira Nair*

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© Dryad's Peak
Maira Gall