It smelt of new rains and of tender
Shoots of plants- and its warmth was the warmth
Of earth groping for roots... even my
Soul, I thought, must send its roots somewhere
And, I loved his body without shame,
On winter evenings as cold winds
Chuckled against the white window-panes.
[From Summer in Calcutta]
Winter
Kamala Das
(1)
Poem topics: summer, winter, soul, tender, earth, white, cold, shame, body, thought, window, warmth, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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