The Mother Soil

Apr 18, 2023

1 min read

By Hariharan S

Wherever it rains

Like the smell of my soil

No smell anywhere.

As soon as I put it on my pinky finger

Mother earth that has mixed with me.

Even if the eagle flies high in the sky

To take rest it should reach the soil,

Knowing that

Every time you return to work from the land of your birth

A small drop of tears

With a single smile

I will finish..

Farewell

By Hariharan S

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