Sri Lal Poet Free verse

Golden Bowl

I dream of a pipal tree that grows 
at the foot of Banasura Hill, 

miles beyond the fishing village 
I once called home. 

Here, I rest in her long, sweet shade
and sing the Kabini River’s song. 

Here, in the face of a full summer moon, 
I sit with an empty golden bowl.

Published in Muse India

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