August

I stood by the mountains
On a wet August day,
As pools by the way side
Shimmered with heaven’s gray.

A sudden gust of wind
Shook unwary leaves free:
One redbreast flew away
But left gray thoughts with me.

It’s easy to be blue
In the rainy season:
And love and death, old friends,
Too provide a reason.

But I have loved the clouds
And gray, shadowy skies:
The swirling mists and greens
Have always pleased my eyes.

If you are not with me
The season’s not to blame:
The mists and steady rain
Please me still just the same.

Diptesh Ghosh