Wild flowers think. The afternoon is sweet in the mild summer. 

The wild flowers, pensive, let them think.

 They may come up with a thought, a gift for the passing summer, exotic and cool.

 The nightfall, the sundown, the hour when the lights go dim,

 and suddenly the the winter is in the backyard. I pull on a robe, and light a fire,

 and the flame is for me my sun and the moon. The clouds hang over in plain white

 making a canopy on a tent that does not exist.

 Like curtains overhanging they give me a cover leaving a fistful of sky. 

All my life I longed for a mansion to live with windows opening on a sea..

I am content and happy to live in the backyard of an empty house.

My pets are gone and my unicorn alone is still with me.

Each night he waves a magic lamp and the ripples scintillate.A mythical woman living in a myth.

She has still not found the source of life;.

when will she find the end?

Sushama Karnik.

16 June 2023.