Spring

By Preksha H M

I never met the spring alone before;

The flowers, the birds, the loveliness of trees,

For with me always there was one I love-

And love is shield against such gifts as these.

But now I am alone, alone, alone;

The days and nights- one long remembering.

Did other Aprils that we shared possess,

The hurting beauty of this living spring?

I never met the spring alone before,

My starving grief- this radiance of gold!

To be alone, when spring is born,

One should be dead, or suddenly grow old!!

By Preksha H M