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Whispers in the Wind carried my poem, Waiting. It is a great community of poets on the web and seems very friendly too.

Waiting

I wrote it earlier this year when our little bit of winter was turning into spring. Mumbai, of course has hardly a winter. Enough for a slight chill and enough to bother cats who really like it warm. We do have a spring. Trees shed their leaves and get new shoots, all in the space of a week. Summer fruit trees start to bud.

In Mumbai, winter is the best season, pleasantly cool and a long way from the heat of summer. Spring is beautiful and full of flowers, paving the way for the dazzle of summer’s scarlet Gulmohar.

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