view from my window-2

Blushing , the new peepul leaves peeped out;

And soon the bare trees were brightly dressed,

As the birds came busily pecking up twigs

To build on each branch a new nest.

Such a bustle : with chirping and cawing

As the nestlings were fed and taught to fly;

Parakeets screeching , a lone kite whistling,

Home was a tree,– and this patch of the sky.

In summer the yellow-hatted men came by,

Construction cranes stacked up concrete blocks,

And families moved into the new apartments

Their children played in brand new parks.

There was a cheerful bustle yet onceĀ again

And between the spring and fall–

I realized that the view from my window

Had not really changed at all!

 

 

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