Late Winter Rose | Palak Mishra

The first rose of late winter...

Blossoming under the sky..

Her stem facing downwards...

Looks like..she is shy...

"Who are you little flower...

What happened?... asked I"

"A bud...a baby rose..

but I'm a girl"...her reply..

"That's an honor little bud...

But you seem upset...Why?"

'Girl an honor??'Laughed amazingly...

And stopped!!...'oh! you are a guy...'

With a nervous face;I grasped...

She wanted a bye...

"I shouldn't talk to a stranger...

That's all...I can't justify.."

"Little Rose...you are a blessing...

Why don't you wish to fly...??"

"You listen to your heart...

It's your life... enjoy..."

'I am prisoned...I know...

Please don't gratify...'

'Yes I need a hope...

But no stupid lie..'

At swift...a wind thudded...

And my hands raised high...

'oh man!! you are one of those...

The several passers by..'

'Preaching me right ....

And asking me why?

I can save myself...

And what If I die...'

'Nothing will change...

The way farer...the pie...

You wanted to change my thaughts...

And what about thy?'