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Dhruba Gautam

The frost of time all over the hair,
wrinkles of time’s downpour over the face,
deep scars of unplugged thorns in the depth of the bosom
she turned to me and looked with a smirk.
Her eyelids were dry.
By releasing, spilling or being steamed by the rap of time?
Now, 
There is not the slightest hint of dew on the hue of her face;
dream swans will not play in the pool of her eyes,
a sonorous waterfall will not fall from the hair follicles.
I close the window to avoid the setting sun and her deep sigh.
Inside the wall, I have been looking at her picture for years.

[Dhruba Gautam is a Nepali poet. Professionally, he is a lecturer of English at Shankar Dev Campus TU, and at The Times International College, Kathmandu.]

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