By Resmi Prakash
Around the cusp of summer
and winter
when the forest is faded
with more brown
than green
wild bushes of adathoda
bloom in silent glory –
white flowers
not so bright
like a cusped hand
or a pitcher
I couldn’t decide
with strokes of pink
like a fish bone stitch
two stamen –
no dainty or flimsy
like an ibex’ horn.
She stood there,
weary winter shrubs,
like a child
who is never told –
She is beautiful.
Every day
I walk past
wondering ways to tell
her,
as she waves in the
winter breeze.
Bio:
Resmi Prakash is a Linguist from Kerala, India. Her favourite genre to write as well as read, are essays and nature writings. Growing up in a village by the sea, the characters of her prose are largely drawn from the living and non-living of her childhood. She likes to think that her travels and life away from the familiar have given her, among many other things, the poetry she writes now which she didn’t realise at the point.
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