Maya*, do you remember our boisterous childhood?
We were hopping over the marked squares.
At last you hopped over the horizon
leaving me alone in my dormitory.
...
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sweet little poem. there are hackyened parts but are saved by some clever twists.
So many fragile lives blown away without rhyme or reason. A moment of silence is all we have left to give them. And, of course, your poem of love and remembrance which is an enduring gift. Wonderful, Nimal. Warm regards, Sandra