poddarku (poddarku) wrote in borntowrite,

Hues of Love

Hues of love
She was not wearing red
at that point of time when we met.
He had been listening
to the meanings, colors denote
and watching for a red rose
that he might pluck from neighbor’s patch.
He was wearing blue dreams,-
faded and could be taken
as his good old denim.
He ruffled his hair, adjusted;
the way a lover
was supposed to look,- in love, lost.

She wasn’t waiting for him.
The boy was barely in his teen.
The red bus stopped, took her
for a ride according to ticket.

The boy waited for the day next.
He would be there, dawdling in dream.
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
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