A cocky orange streetlight
Rudely interupts
My affair with the early evening sky
of an ambiguous white or fading blue
with pink fleeced lambs turning dirty grey.
A frolicking kite soars wild.
The dry cold north wind turns around
humid and warm
and whispers in my ear
'Its time
for the green buds to unfold their wings.
Is it time for me
to float your dreams
Again? '
Tapas Bandyopadhyaya
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/spring-returns/
