The moon,
withering,
silence,
a stone.
The pride and vanity of love.
Time passes by, looks askance
at the two sitting on the rock. Time, wonders in passing.
The ravages cannot be undone. Just then
a silly bird sends out a call.
And one of the two sitting on rock throws
up to the sky
high above to the moon
a ball of gold saved over years a bounty of love and hails the bird,
"Silly bird without your silliness
how would we ever have lived and loved?"
Sushama Karnik.
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