A White Whistle

A White Whistle

Clutched fingers & wet skin
Shivering in cold & drenched in rain
Every dawn She stands next to the old tree.

Fighting with the wind & minding her hair
Staring at the horizon even no one care
Every dawn she waits next to the old tree.

Holding tight to the whistle & breathing syncopation
Its a waste – without him its just a commotion
Every dawn she looks at the white whistle & hugs old tree.

It has been five years that he is gone
Embracing her-he had promised ‘I will be back one dawn’
Now the war is over & the world is at peace
But every dawn she waits next to the old tree.

Every dropping tear & every beating second
Her knees crying to bend & her heart aching to rest
With a strong will-she knows its a test
Every dawn she sheds tears next to the old tree.

Bright summer dawn when rays intersperse
At horizon a shadow grows like an aura
Her dry lips seize in a caesura
This is the dawn when she blows her white whistle
Kneeling next to the old tree, She gives him a final hug.

Love was in air as she runs down the slope
She jumps passionately – Kissing her lost hope
Birds were tweeting & they walk back to their home.
Her every dawn marked a memory in the old tree.

Clutching his branches & shedding dry leaves
Longing for the company he had for days
The old creaky tree smiles at the sky
Looks at the green valley & mountainy castle
The old tree says ‘If only I had A WHITE WHISTLE’


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