The yellow poinciana trees

At my house are done

Spent blossoms carpet my drive

My mind travels to India

Where flowers are so plentiful

They carpet your life

The Himalayas gaze pink

All cool breathing onto the terraces of tea

How can I long for a place

I never called home

Or for a man I never called

My husband except in dreams?

By Margaret Kruger

All Rights Reserved

Copyright September 2018

Sarasota Florida 34236