This is the night
when the stars follow a lonely moon
and fairies jump into a boat
to catch the last ferry to return to home in the sky.
following the wind.
Slow down;
let me catch up.
Walk, do not run.
The rain is beating upon my back;
I am soaked, shivering to the bones.
Indiscreet, the touch of rain,
like a charade acted out,
asking me to guess your word
leaving just a touch for a clue.
Sushama Karnik.
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