The hang fire!

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It was on that evening,

The smell of lavenders

under the window,

And freshly mowed lawn

Wafting in to fill my lungs,

You had said...

'God willing, I will see you tomorrow'.

As always...the evening went by,

And the next morning

And the next...

My waiting progressed.

One centipede movement at a time.

I opened that one window

Where only I can see your arrival

Also, you could see my worn out eyes...

A private space we had shared

Away from the gawking

Far off from the world

I voiced out into the emptiness

That had reminiscence of your smell

Was that God's will that you didn't come?

Or just your own?

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