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That Home Afar

A Poetic Reflection

Image from Unsplash by Progressive

Those quiet words
which fall like gentle raindrops
on flowers,
that familiar fragrance of
Indian Summer
on the pages,
that need to open
the door
and be at home again.

I woke up dreaming about blackberries and lavender, but when I walked in the kitchen there was that strong odour of fumigation in few seconds my dream died and I was back to the real life, but that didn’t stop…



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Priyanka Srivastava

Priyanka Srivastava

Editor of ShabdAaweg Review, Writer when I am free, Artist when my words are silent and reader when there are books which I love to read.