Thursday, December 23, 2010

The Garden Hand By Kushal Poddar


The Garden Hand


This spring we miss him,

his weeding, shaping our hedges,

mowing our lawn, doing the routines.

They tell us, he moved up.

He has a new house

with a green lawn.

We become pleased and sad,

envious and distant


©All Rights are reserved by Kushal Poddar, 2010☼


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