“Are you unwell?” “No, thank you.”
“Is everything okay, honey? Sure?” “Yep, alright.”
“Then, why? Why are you looking so keyed up?
The world seems to be topsy-turvy and
You look like a fretting, patchy stone
scattering sharp shards all around?”
I don’t have any answers to these queries
except shooting the sight
towards the purple jacaranda and scarlet flame trees
Spring is here
Beauty clutches the spooky branches
Petals are timely, flying down in the light breeze
Carpeting the ground with unique colours
We are elated and revel in every moment with the bloom
But who is there to see the sob of the fallen petals,
Which, wiggling at our feet,
have made the ground pretty for frequent clicks!
Umme Salma, published,
Salma Seclusion 