When the December air ruffles your hair
When the dried leaves touch your feet
crying for a few droplets of water
not to be flown away by winter flair
Abruptly a shooting star comes down to earth to cajole the yellow leaves .
Standing on the threshold I lean against the door ;
and wait for the last customer of the world
With my suicidal love.
Whispering a sad tune when winter goes by, Far across the hill
the shepherd blows on his harp a dirge.
crawling the rocky hill
You come to me
I am the perennial malady of earth.
Nilakshi Dutta hails from the pristine tea gardens of Assam, Tinsukia. She has been working as a Principal in a government Senior secondary school for the past five years. She is extremely passionate about poetry and considers herself to be more of a reader than a writer. Her short stories have been published in famous Assamese literary magazine GORIYOXEE and a few of her poems are scattered in some indigenous newspapers