Jagubhai
by Loi Shah
A walk through the trees blanketed by winter's first frost.
A young son's indifferent embrace, the photos of lives passed.
In the burning summer, cars expire outside the barn
The strong calf leaves his pen, craving the times that have passed.
An embrace from his Mama, the warmth of her tear-stained shawl
A face like July's monsoons, the paintings of lives passed
The season's chill fades away, and the new trees sprout up
in place of old ruins, can time return what has passed?
