What about the rose I gave you today?
What about the one yesterday?
I know we haven't spoken,
I know that we haven't sung in long,
But not because we're broken
but that time we had none.
Can death bring us so far apart,
that neither in life or dreams we speak,
can some tear shatter the bonds so deep
that they sink in the soil, never to reap?
Do these chills not reach those plains
where you live now?
These tremors and tears that we have shed
not cause that unearthly world to bow?
As a kid, I often wondered about the leaves
On the winter dawn
They go back to the earth now dry
To await a summer morn.
No one knows of the secret sherbet
that was made from the frozen drinks
5 rupees was all it cost to make
The sweetest sweet from a stupid ice cream.
In some other season perhaps,
sitting by the veranda we'll wait
once again for the local ice cream man
and for the sun to rise on our gate.
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