When the wind blows,
Things from the table fall down,
People in their galleries act as clown,
Letting the doors shutter so loud,
Children enjoy seeing the moving cloud,
Turning the crinkly pages so fast,
Taking a deep breathe as if it’s my last,
Boards near the window fall so hard,
My sister can’t stop moving cards,
Let the wind blow,
Let things fall,
Oh! it’s a spring evening,
Let me enjoy it all.
~Anshul Daga
Raipur, Chhattisgarh
Thanks @indianperiodical for publishing my poem. It’s a pleasure to have you by my side.